War of Ages
by Thunderbird013
Summary: It's been over a year after the alien invasion and the Earth is now threatened by a new extra-terrestrial threat. To combat it, the X-Com project is put back into action, and seeks help across dimensions, and from nearly a dozen different franchises! The writing gets much better after the first chapter, it was written long before the rest.
1. Prolouge

Orange.

All Dr. Vahlen could see was bright, flickering orange. The massive amounts of smoke and dust she was inhaling were making the doctor feel extremely dizzy. Vahlen used what little strength she had left to pull herself from off the floor and to lean on to the smoldering rubble. She looked up. "Dear God…" The entire city block was covered in bright flame. A massive armada of aircrafts from what must have been only about 15 meters up were sending bright green beams of energy to anything not completely destroyed. Dr. Vahlen watched as one seemed to stop only a couple meters to the side of the concrete she was leaning on. Vahlen could barely scream before her entire world was a bright green.

"Ahhhh!" Dr. Vahlen screamed as she sat straight up from in her bed and shot out from under her covers. She looked to her side and let out sigh of relief. She hadn't woken up her husband. She swore it seemed like the aliens after an interrogation act more alive than her husband when he sleeps. "-sigh-". Vahlen got up from her bed and walked out to her back porch. Vahlen's house was very exquisite. While she had joined the X-Com project to help save her kind from a world ending price, the pay they gave was also a great initiative to work hard. Once outside, Vahlen took a deep breath of the salty air. She looked out at the ocean and thought about her dream. "-Sigh- Third one this month… Maybe I really should find someone to talk to". While Vahlen did her best to hide the effects the war had taken on her it was hard to keep a secret from the one person you see every day. Her husband had strongly suggested that Vahlen should see someone but Vahlen strongly believed that money can be better spent on things other than someone to vent to. Besides, the X-Com project was an international secret. Just telling her husband had required months and months of screening and personality checks that still were still not completed over a year after the alien threat had dissolved.

"Madalyn! Your phone is going crazy! If it doesn't go off within thirty seconds I am going to throw it out the window!"

"Ugh", Vahlen quietly mumbled to herself. Perhaps she should alter the analogy she made earlier about her husband. He was more like a victim of a Chryssalid, seemingly dead before it comes back to life as an absolute monster. Vahlen often joked that if she needed therapy for anything it should be for her husband's behavior in the morning. "Hold on, I'll be over there momentarily!" When she got to her phone it read "Bradford" on its screen. "Ah, hello Lieutenant. A little late to be informing me on the reunion next month, no?"

"Hello Doctor and, yes the reunion is coming up soon, that isn't exactly what I called you about…"

Dr. Vahlen was confused. There was a subtle yet very noticeable hint of seriousness tinge to his voice, and if Bradford hadn't called about the reunion she had no idea what he could be calling about. "Well what else would you call about? Did something happen?"

"If the lab boys are correct than yes, something most definitely did happen."

Lab boys? That was the term used when talking about the workers at the laboratory. If old X-Com employees had contacted the second in command of the entire project than not only did something happen, but that something was without a very large problem to the entire human race. "Excuse me? The 'Lab Boys'? If this has anything to do with the alien threat than I would like to honestly question your logic. The ethereal commander was defeated over a year ago. Correct me if I'm wrong but their return seems highly unlikely."

Bradford had hesitated before he responded. "…Well that's the thing Doctor. What we've spotted appears very different from the alien crafts we previously encountered."

"Hmm… and I hope we are positive that this isn't just some space junk left from some old rocket."

"Doctor, do you honestly think I would contact you if we weren't positive it isn't some space junk?"

"…"

"I've already contacted Shen and the others. We need you to report to the old base in Nigeria in exactly 72 hours. Clear, Doctor?"

Vahlen honestly didn't know what to say. The idea of another invasion seems so preposterous, so ludicrous that she didn't even consider it a possibility, and that wasn't even considering that another alien race would take over.

"Um… Yes that is clear. I will have my things packed and will be ready to go the day after tomorrow."

After realizing what she just said Vahlen started panicking. If the effects from a war that has long ended were still lingering what will happen now? What if our base gets invaded again and she wasn't prepared? What if the sight of an alien alone would put her into shock?

"Affirmative Doctor. I will see you then. -BEEP-''

"Oh dear…"

Packing her things was the easy part. Most of her necessary toiletries and needs would be provided at the base, so there were only a few things that needed to be packed. Her X-Com lab coat and ID card, her old tablet with the X-Com insignia still imprinted on its back, a pistol in case of emergencies, a bottle of water for the plane ride, and a picture of her and her husband at their seaside house, all able to be fit in a small briefcase one would carry to work. All of that was easy. The difficult part was telling her husband, but after what seemed like a talk that would last for hours, he finally allowed it. After that, a few calls had to be made about Vahlen's new "business venture" before she could finally drive to the airport.

The flight was a fairly average one, small turbulence, horrible food, that one absolutely annoying child that you could swear was being mind controlled by a sectoid commander, so yeah, your average flight. That is it was average until about 7 hours in. The one thing that made Vahlen begin to worry: the child had stopped banging on the back of her seat. Well, that and the eerie blue light that began emanating from outside the plane. Vahlen was stunned at what she saw next. It looked…horrifying! When Vahlen peered out the window she saw the most grotesque face staring back at her. It was as if a decaying corpse had been charred with what looked like flesh hanging off of it. Its mouth was open so wide open that its hanging, yellow teeth seemed to get lost in it. Behind it, a bright blue light which came from no identifiable source glowed so intensely that it almost blinded Dr. Vahlen. The creature seemed to roar as it began to scratch at and absolutely assault her window, intent on breaking through the plane. Vahlen's first reaction was to go for her pistol safely hidden in her bag. When she grabbed it, her cellphone slid out as well. While the blinding blue light had made it hard to see, Vahlen saw the name Bradford on its screen as it flew past.

"-BANG-," Against her better judgement Vahlen had fired a bullet straight out of the window. The creature roared so loud that it seemed to shake the plane. Immediately after rearing back from its new wound, the creature punched a massive hole in the wall.

"Hey Vahlen, I know you might not get this message but" "-BANG-," wanted to let you know that we might've," "-BANG-," "signature near," ,"GRAAAWWWWWRRR –BANG-BANG-BANG-"

The air mask popped out from the ceiling stunning Vahlen and allowed the creature to tear her out of her seat and dangled her out of the plane. Now Vahlen could get a clear look at her attacker. The rest of its body had the same dead look as its face. Its limbs seemed to be twisted in a fashion similar to that of a spider. Its hands were massive, the palm must being at least a foot across, and were gripping tightly to the plane. It wore what looked like a gun on its back emanating the blue light. Although, Vahlen only saw the gun as she was currently hanging out of the side of a plane!

The creature brought Vahlen up close to its face, so close that Vahlen could smell its pungent breath, and was just about to throw Vahlen thousands of meters to her doom when suddenly,

"screeerrEeeEEEEEe-BOOM-," A massive explosion had went off right underneath the plane. The explosion had shaken the plane and caused the creature to drop Vahlen. Spiraling through the air, Vahlen plummeted out of control. The only things recognizable were the blue lights of the creature's gun and what appeared to be a giant raven circling around. Vahlen then realized that it was, in fact, a Raven, the fighter jet piloted by X-Com operatives to shoot down UFOs. Then, a splash of green jumped out of the jet and plummeted along with Vahlen.

"Doctor Vahlen! Put this on quickly!"

Vahlen turned around to see the face of Shaoji Zhang, one of the soldiers to serve during the X-Com project. What he was referring to was the backpack like object which Vahlen surmised must be a parachute. She quickly put it on and pulled the cord attached to it. Zhang did the same with a parachute on his back and both began to float down to the ground slowly.

"Sorry to be seeing you again under such strained circumstances Doctor, but when we picked up on that alien's frequency we had to come investigate, and when we come into the area we see one of the highest in command of X-Com dangling out of an airplane."

"Yes, that creature nearly threw me right into the ground. Had you not fired that rocket I would surely have-" "BOOM

Just as Doctor Vahlen was about to finish the plane she had just flew from had exploded in a flash of blue light.

"Oh dear…Zhang?"

"How many people were on that plane?"

Vahlen hesitated before responding. "It was completely full"

"…"

"…"

The silence was interrupted by the sound of the Raven flying nearby. It had stopped to a hover just below Zhang and Vahlen so they could board. When they got on, the piolet told Vahlen that they would be heading to HQ via X-Com systems only, and about an hour after that, Vahlen had fallen asleep.

…

…

…

…"AH"

Vahlen quickly shot her eyes opened and looked darted them around. The only reason she didn't fly out of her seat was the belts coming down from above her shoulders. This after all was a military plane so the seats would be as such.

"Doctor Vahlen, are you alright!?"

She looked up to respond to Zhang who was sitting right across from her on the jet.

"Yes, I'm fine. It was just… a dream."

"Hmm, alright. Well, now that you're awake we're almost at Nigeria."

The piolet flying the plane turned to talk to the operatives, "Yeah and Bradford wantsta give you a debrief and what the plan is to bash these new cretins. With that he pushed a button on the control panel which made a monitor lower from the ceiling. After a bit of static, an image of Bradford appeared on the screen.  
"Hello Doctor, I hope your little alien encounter didn't startle you too much."

"Well…I'm fine now that Major Zhang and this piolet managed to rescue me.

"Alright, good. By the way, we managed to recover the corpse of that alien that attacked you and we found something interesting. When you get to the base I'll talk to you about it."

"Sure, but if you wanted to speak to me now you must have something else to say other than what you will tell me later."

"Correct Doctor, I wanted to go over the plan we came up with to combat this new threat."

"Ok. Please begin." Over the next couple of minutes Bradford explained the plan the commander had come up with. Over the minutes after that, Zhang and Vahlen both agreed that the plan was incredibly stupid.

"Crossing dimensions!?" Vahlen and Zhang both screamed in unison.

"With all due respect Lieutenant, there is very little evidence to suggest a parallel universe exists. How would we be able to cross between it if we don't know it exists?" Vahlen's question didn't seem to faze Bradford as he continued to explain the plan.

"We don't know exactly if there really is a parallel universe out there but that's where Zhang comes in."

Zhang seemed incredibly shocked based of the look in his eyes. "How am I supposed to assist in this? I have no expertise on crossing dimensions!"

"You don't, but you are psychic," Bradford explained. "The lab boys here at HQ have made a device with the old outsider shard that we think would cross dimensions if they exist. With it, you will use your psychic abilities to put suggestions on what we need to pull through dimensions."

Vahlen was utterly frustrated. "So what you did was you built a machine that is one, based on pure speculation, two, was built against my permission, and three, is based on the premise that because Zhang is psychic he can pull anything he wants into this dimension."

"Yes, that is exactly what I did, and I didn't need your permission because I had Dr. Shen's permission."

Vahlen thought about it for a moment. If Shen had approved of this crazy machine than maybe Bradford had not entirely lost his marbles. "So Shen is approved of this?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And he made sure the research was sound and that the device actually worked?"

"Yep, all we need is Zhang's psychic ability to activate it, as long as he's ok with it, and I'm confident he is. Are you Major?"

"-Sigh-, if both Vahlen and Shen are ok with it than I guess I have no choice."

Bradford smiled in relief. "Alright, great. We will start booting up the machine now. I'll see you two at the base." The screen went blank and the monitor retracted back up into the ceiling.

In the short time still left in the jet ride Vahlen went through every way she could think of that would make this idea possible. A couple likely candidates had crossed her mind but nothing came to her with any solid proof. She will just have to wait and see when Zhang activates the device.

When they finally arrived at the HQ things were as busy as ever at the once abandoned facility. Workers were wheeling boxes around, engineers were rebuilding machines, and so many other things that Vahlen couldn't really comprehend at the moment.

As soon as they stepped of the Raven Bradford had practically sprinted at the two.

"Ok you're here, great. Zhang we need you to activate the device quickly! Something's malfunctioning and it might get destroyed along with the Outsider shard we tampered with! If it's destroyed we will have no chance of crossing dimensions!"

Vahlen spoke up. "What's wrong with it? Maybe Shen and I could fix it before it's destroyed."

"It might have something to do with the psionic devices interacting with the Outsider shard but there's no time! It's on the brink of breaking at this very moment! Zhang! Come on!" Bradford then preceded to grab Zhang's hand and drag him to the device, which had been wheeled in by some X-Com employees. "It's right here just grab this lever!"

The inter-dimensional device appeared to be some kind of circular wall. A glass control panel containing the Outsider shard was attached to the right side of it. There was a lever emanating with psionic power resonating off of it. The shard was shaking with a great intensity and shining with bright purple and orange lights. Once Zhang grabbed the lever Bradford began yelling again. "Now just think of a personality who would be able to help us in this time of need! Your psychic powers will do the rest. And think of some good gun skills too! We don't want to be training this rookie from scratch!"

Vahlen began screaming as well. "Bradford this is extremely dangerous. You are putting a soldier's life in danger for no valid reason! I highly suggest that- wait what is happening?" The shard began glowing with an extreme amount of purple light. Then Zhang whose hand was still gripped on to the lever began screaming with pain.

"Argh! Bradford! I can't let go! AGGHHH!" At that moment Zhang's psychic mid began getting flooded with tons of memories all at once!

Both the crystal, the device, and now Zhang were glowing with blinding purple light. "AHHGGGGG!" Zhang let out one last scream and a massive wave of light and psionic energy forced everyone present back. A large explosion could be heard followed by the clanks of metal and the sparks of electricity.

Vahlen looked up from where she had fallen onto the floor. The interdimensional device was basically ripped in half and smoking. The shard and its glass case were shattered and Zhang was unconscious. In fact, 8 other figures were knocked out and sprawled out on the surrounding ground. Bradford was the next to get up.

"Well, I was planning to have living accommodations for one VIP, but we might be needing more than that…"


	2. A Detective's Awakening

"Just three more pages..." The young detective toiled over paperwork at her table, scribbling a pen in many boxes and categories.

 **Victim: found deceased on sidewalk by textile shop. Two stab wounds near heart.**

"Hey kid, are you almost done in there?" The detective turned around to see a middle aged man opening the door behind her. He had an unlit cigarette in his mouth and was in the process of putting on his jacket.

"Yes Dojima-san, I'm finishing up the final pieces of the report. I'll only need another half-hour or so.

"Hmh". The man looking through the door gave a grunt in agreement, almost looking concerned. "Hey, don't strain yourself. You've been working on this case for ages and I can tell you're starting to feel tired." The girl sitting in the steel chair gave a small chuckle.

"Please, I thank you for your concern, but I haven't even broken a sweat." The older detective let out a sigh of disappointment, and made one more futile attempt to have the person in front of him take a break.

"Look, Naoto. I understand you want to help all you can, but you don't need to wipe yourself out over this. I don't want to have a kid working longer than I am. Naoto would've winced at her being titled "kid" but she's already experienced it plenty of times. Instead, she responded with concern of her own.

"Dojima-san, you need not worry about me. Besides, I'm sure Nanako is going to bed right about now. Perhaps you should head back to wish her good night." It might be blatant, but her words had the desired effect.

After one more sigh, Dojima continued. "Ok, I got the message, just...please, as soon as you finish your report, head home." His gaze was strong and true as he lit the cigarette in his mouth. "I don't want your grandpa hounding me again."

"Very well then, I bid you a good night." Naoto turned back to her little corner of her office and continued scribbling on her piece of paper, the sound of the door closing audible in the background. She had been working with the Inaba Police Department for several days now, and her devotion was filling much of the staff there with unease. In reality, Naoto was simply finishing all her work for the coming weekend. She and her small group of friends had been planning on going away, and she preferred to not combine her social life with work.

 **Suspect: Ryunosuke Naruhodo**

After realizing her current thoughts, Naoto gave a small chuckle, she was working with her close friend's uncle after all. The trip had been planed months in advance, so Naoto chose to ignore the small annoyance. The biggest reason she had taken this case was to work back in Inaba, where her friends would leave from.

 **Murder Weapon: Steak knife, bears no fingerprints**

...

"Ah!" Naoto had caught herself. She would've drifted off into sleep had a certain blonde boy not crossed her mind. "bear...hah". After her small relief of humor, she realigned her pririties. She couldn't fall asleep now, especially after Dojima's rant.

 **Autopsy: Victim died due to blood loss approx. 5 mi...**

The pen fell to the floor, and Naoto's face slid onto her cold desk.

* * *

Slowly, Naoto awoke. After her eyes flittered open, her thoughts came back to her. "Oh no!" She jolted upright to look at the clock behind her If it was morning, Dojima would be furious!. "W-What?" To her surprise, there was no clock to be seen. In fact, the wall she had prepared to face wasn't there at all. Instead of the bland, gray wall of the police station, she saw a dark brown wooden wall. Now utterly confused, the detective "prince" observed the rest of the room she was in.

The first thing she noticed was the chair she was sitting in. It had a wooden frame, and was fashioned with rather expensive looking green cushions. It was positioned on the side of a long wooden table, topped with glass. Around her, was a spacious room made of the same wood she saw earlier. In fact, the room itself looked to be as large as her dining room back home. Behind her, there was a bed crafted with the same motif as the chair. Next to it was a large wardrobe and nightstand. On her right was a large monitor and on her left was a series of bookshelves.

The second Naoto took her concise view of the room, her hands went to her hips. She let out a sigh of relief, and found both of her weapons to be at her side, both of them were guns. One was her standard issue police pistol. The other is a bulky white pistol with many red accents. It had the logo SEES imprinted on it in the same deep red.

Armed and ready, Naoto slowly crept up to a door in the room's corner. Gripping her glock up to her cheek, she took cover against the wall. With the utmost care, her free hand inched at the golden handle. With a movement as swift as lightning, Naoto leaped into the hallway and prepared her gun. Dropping to one knee, she turned to her left and right, finding no signs of life. The only exception was three open doors down the hallway she was currently in, one to her left and two to her right.

It was really quite jarring, the stale, grey walls of the hallway juxtaposing with the elegance of the previous room. What was really intriguing was the insignia on the wall. "Hmm, watch trust?" Dozens of thoughts had crossed Naoto's mind after translating the Latin, none of them were pleasing. As Naoto drew a quick sketch in a notepad, she deduced it was some form of militarily organization.

"Oh, what was that?" Naoto's attention became drawn to the set of doors at the far end of the hallway. She could've swore she heard someone yelling. After moments of silence, her thoughts were confirmed. Another loud yell was heard from the doors...a familiar yell. Naoto gasped in excitement. "Kanji!"

Such a massive wave of relief washed over Naoto. Not only would she be with a familiar face, but that face would be one of the companions that she was closest with. At a fairly brisk pace, Naoto made her way to the end of the hall. After seeing the lock was inactive, Naoto turned the handle with her loaded gun in the other hand. With a twist, she opened the door. What she found...certainly wasn't Kanji.

* * *

Such anger was boiling from the man behind the door. That anger was now intensified by the detective that walked through the door. "A kid!? Not only do you kidnap me, but a damn kid!?" Naoto quickly ran through her thoughts of the action in front of her. There was a group of three standing in front of her, two men and a woman, clearly locked in conflict. Their faces were red, fists were clenched, and one was even holding a weapon.

"Look, our organization had no control over who came! He had the same chance of coming here as Hitler for all we know!"

The man now making his counterargument had the simplest clothes out of the group. He wore a dark green sweater which bore the same insignia that was in the hallway. Based upon this, and his military buzz cut, Naoto felt her earlier assumption had been confirmed. She decided the best course of action now would be to remain quiet, and gather information. She was eager to gain better understanding of the situation before her.

"Both of you, cut it out!" The woman had spoken up and stepped between the two men. She had on a tight body suit reminiscent of the sky, and hair blonde as the sun. The suit's unfamiliar material and pink designs briefly made Naoto wonder if this individual was from the future before immediately dismissing the idea. The gun she had holstered gave a similar impression, having a remarkable design with similar markings.

The man who was mistaken for Kanji took a step forward to addressed the other man."You listen here". Upon closer examination, this voice is quite different from Kanji's. This voice is much deeper and mature than her dear friend. "We better start getting some answers, or else I might be inclined to leave". Naoto couldn't get a good view before, but now that the man stepped forward she could clearly see his clothing.

From what Naoto could tell, he wore a black leather jacket with a buttoned shirt of a similar color underneath. Around his neck was a loosely tied red ascot. His eyes were filled with discontent and regret, yet still had a tint of anger and intimidation. The massive golden gun holstered at his hip helped to multiply these features.

"Look, all we want is your cooperation for a few hours then we can discuss other matters." Naoto finally spoke, content with the information she gathered.

"With all due respect sir, I would prefer if we were to discuss things sooner rather than later. I'm sure these two here would agree, no?" The sweatered man pondered for a moment before being subjected to a disconcerting glare that made even Naoto shudder. After a brief grimace, he replied, disappointment evident in his voice.

"Hmm... Very well." He tried to avoid eye contact with the other man, clearly sensing the tension in the room. "Can you all at least wait until the rest of you wake up?"

"Rest of us?" Now Naoto was curious. She adjusted her cap and questioned the man before her. "Sir, how many of us are there?''

"There were seven of you last we counted. And it's Lieutenant Bradford by the way."

"Naoto Shirogane." At the very least she could provide her name. If anything, her introduction should bait the others' as well. "And you all?"

The gruff man had taken several glances around the group and finally stepped forward. Their attention was fixed on him as he began his introduction. "Name's B- Hey! Get back!" Naoto felt some pressure on her hip, the side with her white gun, before seeing it be swiped away from behind her. An arm wrapped its way around her neck, the stolen gun pressed against her temple. Three pistols immediately flew up into the air, one from behind her and two from the woman and Bradford. The gruff man had grabbed some sort of spinning mechanism from his side and gripped it in his left hand.

"Nobody move!" went a startlingly thick French accent from behind her. She noted the blue sleeve before her chin, and grasped at it. The massive room turned into a stand-off, tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. "Move and a bullet goes into his head!" Well there was a silver lining, they all still think she's a boy.

Surprisingly, Naoto was completely calm. She had not a worry on her mind. "Ok, all I want is a plane out of here and the boy goes free." Well, that might be incorrect. The thick smell of cigarettes was quite bothersome. "So I implore you...Put the weapons down!"

The gruff man's face became a distorted mixture of anger and fear as he began to rage against the assailant. A slight trickle of blood began to form around his nose, but it didn't look like he noticed "You bastard!" A rather large draft began to circulate around the room despite the non-existence of any windows. "Let the kid go!"

"Then give me the plane and put down your weapons!" His grip on Naoto's neck tightened as he began to slowly step away. His hand was tense, the slightest agitation could cause him to pull the trigger... Good

The gust increased in intensity, forming a cyclone of air around the group. The spinning mechanism spun faster and faster. Bradford tried desperately to diffuse the situation and put down his pistol. "Hey!" The woman turned to him. What are you doing.

"The last thing we need is a dead body, let alone the body of a boy. I'd ask you to do the same". The woman still trained her gun on the French, determination in her eyes.

"What? Are you just going to submit to his demands?" She cracked a mocking smile and fixed her gaze back.

Bradford made a swift retort, "It's better than a dead body on our hands."

If Naoto were to act, this would be the time. Bradford would be useless, and she had no way of telling him her thoughts. Instead, she made direct eye contact with the man now holding an intense cyclone in his hand. Without speaking, she mouthed _five_ to the man and hoped he received her message.

With a brief, inconspicuous nod, he marked his knowledge of the plan.

"Any minute now! I'm growing rather impatient!"

 _Four_

"Shen!" Bradford was yelling into a communications device in his hear. "Get a skyranger prepped for deployment!"

 _Three_

The wind flying around the gruff man was swirling with an unstoppable force.

 _Two_

Naoto prepped herself for combat. She didn't know what this French man was capable of. If it was anything compared to herself, she'd need to brace herself.

"ONE!" She yelled this time, making Bradford jump. The gruff man launched himself at the French with the force of a tornado, hand reared behind him for a strike as hard as a meteor.

"Aaagghh!" With a man now soaring at him with the speed of a car, the French man pulled the trigger, but rather than a gunshot, the deafening sound of glass being shattered filled the room.

"...Ha." Naoto quickly grabbed her captor's arm and tripped him using her foot. With a graceful movement, she pushed him right into the speeding whirlwind, and watched him fall unconscious on the other side of the room. As she turned back around, she saw the awestruck faces of the three others. It was to be expected as they just witnessed a deity of mythology appear before their very eyes!

The being disappeared as ambiguously as it had appeared, leaving the group with many unanswered questions. Naoto walked over to pick up her Evoker off of the floor. This gift allowed her to summon her persona in the real world, courtesy of the Kirijo group.

Casually, she walked back over to the group, one hand on her hip. she usually preferred to not display such a blatant presentation of pride, but it was important to show that she was not to be trifled with. Bradford, now recovering from shock, began to assault her with questions akin to "what was that", "how did you do that", and "what can you do". With a smug grin Naoto adjusted her hat over her eyes. "I only require your cooperation for now, we will discuss other matters later".

"Very well then" Bradford fiddled with the device in his ear."Zhang, come down and bring the VIPs to the conference rooms. Bring the medics down too" He turned to the group. "If you don't mind, our personnel will deal with waking up the others. As you can see..." He looked over at the unconscious body, "...we don't know where everyone alliances stand yet." He said it in such a way that Naoto almost believed she had a choice in the matter. "Our man should be down here in a couple of minutes. Maybe you all could get your introductions in order now." With that, Bradford had entered an elevator almost the size of a tank near the corner of the room. Before it closed, he gave one final request that they don't move anywhere.

For a moment the mismatched group simply stared at each other. The awkward silence may have continued had another person not walked through the door. Upon entering the room, this person took a cursory examination of those in front of her before her eyes settled on an individual. "Ah, Sammy!" The newcomer was another woman, and had attire just as strange as the other. She wore a skin tight suit, but this one was jet black, and opted for revealing skin and silver designs as opposed to pink markings. She carried two blue pistols in her gloved hands, each embedded with a gemstone.

She walked over to "Sammy", the woman in blue. It's good to see a familiar face. "Bayonetta? What are you doing here?" An interesting name Naoto thought. "

"I thought you would have the answer to that." She spoke in a thick British accent, and her height may even surpass Kanji's. "I just woke up in one of the rooms back there." She gestured with her thumb to the doors behind her.

"That's what happened to us too." The gruff man took a step forward. "We just woke up here with no idea why." Naoto was more focused on "Sammy" to hear what they were saying.

"Excuse me? Is something on your mind? The blonde woman turned to her.

"I was just thinking about this." She turned to Bayonetta. "If you're here, we should consider the possibility that we have crossed dimensions." The man turned white and muttered something under his breath. He spoke out to her.

"Crossing dimensions? Why would you think of that?" His voice was stone cold and serious.

"It would be hard to explain"

"Oh, not really love". Bayonetta turned to him. "You see, me and Samus over here exist within two different dimensions, and only met when we traveled to a different one." Samus...another odd name.

"Sh*t..." With a face paler than the moon, the man turned to his side.

"Crossing dimensions? Is that really possible?"

"...Yes." Perhaps this man has traveled through dimesnions before. Naoto thought it'd be best she didn't prod at the subject too much.

"So, what're all of you names?" Once again Bayonetta broke the silence. "I know yours of course," she said while gesturing towards Samus. "but I don't know you two.

"Ah, my mane is Naoto Shirogane. And you sir? I believe your introduction was cut off earlier.

"...Name's Booker DeWitt." Hmm. Concern began to fill Naoto's mind. She was a little shocked the concept of alternate dimensions was still bothering him. She hadn't quite realized the gravity of the situation until now, and then began to wonder why these two women weren't bothered by it.

Moments later, the elevator Bradford had ridden began to descend to their level. Once it arrived, a Chinese man stepped out, followed by four or five others. "Greetings." The man's gray hair suggested he was elderly, but his lean and fit physique was that of a twenty year old."My name is Colonel Zhang." He extended his hand out to each person and continued speaking with his thick Chinese accent. "I'm sure many of you have questions, and they will hopefully be answered in due time." As the five behind him entered the hall, he gestured towards the elevator. "Now, if you please."

With little else to do, Naoto, along with the rest of the group entered the elevator.

* * *

"Hey, can you go check on that body out there? Make sure he's still unconscious, the medic's aren't here yet."

"Yeah, sure."

...

"Why hello there." The man examined the body lying against the wall. "That's odd, what kind of person wears a tuxedo and a mask?" His hand, aimed for the figure's mask, went towards the body. "W-What!?" As his hand went through the body, it disappeared, as if it were never there...

Hi! Sorry to the two people who actually know about this piece for the long wait. Well, here it is! I just wasn't really ready to make a full-fledged story yet, so I had actually abandoned it. Now, you should be expecting uploads on a bi-weekly schedule, so I'll be working hard to make the next chapter!


	3. A Pinkerton's Plight

"Sister, do you find it curious that they even think they have a chance?"

"Well it would be quite boring if they didn't even try."

"But it is quite depressing seeing them cling to this false hope."

"Well it's also quite depressing to see people making presumptuous assumptions."

"A fair point."

* * *

Booker felt the heavy atmosphere in the elevator weigh down on his shoulders. The possibility that he was once again in another world constantly tugged at the back of his mind. Plus, he was still left at a loss when it came to his presence there in the first place. The situation wasn't helped by the mind boggling technology that surrounded him. The electric lights and complex mechanisms left Booker in a constant mixture of bewilderment and unease.

He glanced to his right, and saw the boy that remained such a mystery. For such a kid, Naoto was accepting this situation quickly. No...it wasn't that. He wasn't even reacting to it at all. For the whole elevator ride he hadn't once changed the calm demeanor he entered with.

Then there was the matter of the...thing that appeared above him. Whatever on earth it was, Booker had no idea. He'd seen some pretty bizarre things during his travels through Columbia, but there was something about it that seemed...different. It looked too human to be a monstrosity like the songbird, yet its blue skin, strange wings, and incredible weaponry was a sight of the likes Booker had never seen.

The two woman to Booker's simply confused him instead of making him worry. They seemed to have met before, and had traveled through worlds. The way the just mentioned so nonchalantly led to many questions, most of which needed answers that Booker didn't have. This feeling of being left in the dark certainly didn't help boost his opinions of the situation.

Eavesdropping on their conversation only lead to even more confusion; Booker couldn't even make heads or tails out of their talks of "hands" and countless other names. Thankfully, their talk was interrupted by a massive creaking sound.

"Ah, we have arrived." With a quick glance and hand gesture, Zhang led the group behind him as two massive doors pulled away. They revealed a much more homely atmosphere compared to the stark, industrial one Booker saw so far. At his feet, there was a field of pine green carpeting. At the center of the room sat a large table with a thick glass top. Each of its nine edges sat a wooden chair, similar to the one he found when he woke up about an hour ago. The large, glass screen in the back of the room would've caught Booker's attention had something else not grabbed it first.

"Hey!" Samus had quickly drew her gun and held it out in front of her. "Don't move." Her ice cold voice cut through the air, as a figure cloaked in shadow. turned its head towards her.

"Hah... Please, I would prefer to avoid conflict at this point," it said with a cocky attitude. It quickly grabbed the blade it was twirling through its fingers, and stood up from the mahogany wall it was leaning on. Now fully visible, Booker instantly recognized the blue suit and mask as the attacker from earlier slowly walked towards him.

Upon seeing his advance, Naoto grabbed his gun and trained it on the man. "Funny, seeing as you had no problem executing a hostage just a few moments ago."

"Oh please, I had no intention of actually killing you," said the man with a wry smile. "It was obvious based on your pulse that you were never in any real danger, no?" Naoto's hand briefly shot up to the neck his attacker held just minutes before. His face went from its brief phase of surprise to a look of intent curiosity. "All I needed was a...small distraction.

Zhang tensed, clearly worried by the statement he just heard. "Distraction for what?"

"Gathering information." With satisfaction clear in his voice, he pulled some strange device akin to a voxophone from behind his back, and began to gloss his eyes over one side of it. "This building, located in central Nigeria is base of operations for the X-Com Project."

The Chinese man clenched his hand, and began to take quick strides towards the possible threat. "...What are you doing?"

"It's primary objective was to defend earth from an alien invasion close to a year ago." The furious glares sent in his direction didn't even make the French man flinch, as he continued to ramble off more information. "It's primary operatives are led by a Dr. Madalyn Vahlen, located in Westerland, Germany, and a Dr. Raymond Shen, located in Miyakojima, Taiwan."

Zhang winced, and clenched his fist. Through gritted teeth, he shouted something at the man from behind his pointed gun. "How much do you know!?"

"Oh don't worry, just enough information on every single staff member, weapon, and file here."

Zhang stood dead in his tracks as his face grew as pale as the moon. The gun he was just holding made a small thud on the carpeted floor. Booker loaded his hand cannon and prepared for conflict. This man said was wasn't looking any trouble, but he wasn't about to lay out the red carpet for him. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Naoto step back. He saw the glint of the boy's pistol holster back into brown leather while its owner stepped to the back of the room.

"Oh, and I nearly forgot." The masked man tilted his head to the left, most likely a crude attempt for comedic effect. "Your commander, if I remember correctly resides in-"

"S-stop!" Desperate, Zhang began to charge the man so casually spilling information he didn't even know himself.

The French still seemed so nonchalant, so much so that he didn't even shift his gaze from a watch on his wrist. He just adjusted the watch, let out a small chuckle, and...disappeared!? "W-What...?" Dumbstruck, Zhang turned to the group.

"W-woah... What the Hell...?" His knuckles went white as they tightened around the golden pistol. The frantic stares of everyone else mirrored his state of shock...except for that kid. Booker could've swore he saw him let out a grin underneath that hat of his...

Bayonetta took an offensive stance, aiming her guns around the room. "Alright there, love. Let's not blow our tops off."

The French voice spoke out from the emptiness, sounding far closer than it had before. "So, as I was say-"

"What are you doing!?" Zhang had somewhat regained his composure, and was doing his best to keep classified information as it should stay. "What do you possibly have to gain from this!?"

"Reassurance."

"Gah!" The voice was now directly behind Booker, and its close proximity made him jump. "The Hell are you doing!?"

With emotionless blue eyes, the man started to explain. "Something that will benefit us all." The sarcastic pride in the voice was gone, all that remained was a smooth, professional tone. The figure reformed in the middle of the group. Their startled steps back made the perfect stage for the man to impose his word. He held out his gloved hand, presenting a remote wired to the device on his back. "Zhang, I press this button and all of that information gets released to every journalist, social media website, and political leader in exactly 2.35 seconds."

It's a miracle the colonel didn't freeze up then. "O-ok...I-I'll ask again..." After a deep breath, Zhang stood up taller, and regained the authority he once held. "...What do you want?"

The two men looked each other dead in the eye, neither backing down from the other's intimidation. "All I want is to make sure that you and your organization do everything in your power to resolve this situation."

When Bayonetta started speaking again, it filled Booker with relief. She had this way of controlling the mood of a room, and hopefully she would drop the tension. "Not to burst your bubble, but we don't even know what this situation is yet."

Zhang sighed and started to speak. "I suppose now would be the best time to explain ourselves." Defeated, he tapped the table twice, and an image of some kind appeared above it, yet another wonder Booker would have to comprehend. The image was a blue hologram, and showed a large, circular device with various lights and wires connected to it. "This, is our inter-dimensional travel apparatus, or our ITA for short. As many of you had speculated, you have come from another world."

Booker slammed his hand on the table, and it shook with a loud thud. "How do we get back?" He was careful not to lose his temper. He asked his question with vigor, but not anger.

The French man spoke up. "This is our problem." His gaze shifted from person to person as he explained, after finally resting on Zhang. "After some brief investigation, I've found that these imbeciles managed to destroy their device."

"W-what?" Staggered, Naoto nearly fell backwards. "So we're stuck here?" His hand went to his chest before going to his paling head. It was oddly relieving to finally see the kid show _any_ emotion, but this feeling was immediately squashed by the anger that now rose within Booker.

"Not exactly," Zhang spoke, trying with all of his might to keep the situation under control. "Our research teams should be capable of recreating the device."

"How long?" asked Samus. Her crossed arms and solid gaze were aimed right at Zhang. He swallowed hard before answering.

"As of right now, we are unsure. Our closest estimate is a month or so."

"And I'm here to make sure it stays that way." Holding the button out, the French spoke again. "Fixing that device should be your highest priority. Understood?"

Zhang hesitated for a moment. "...I'm sorry, but I have no authority when it comes to our priories. I will, however, notify the commander of your threat. Now, if I could only have your name."

"You can refer to me as 'Spy' and nothing more. My face is hidden for a reason after all."

Booker couldn't help to find comedy in Spy's chosen name. "Heh, figures."

The group endured a few long moments of silence to ponder Spy's actions. While they were very controversial, they did assure everyone that they would be getting back to their homes soon, especially Booker. His desire to return back to his world outweighed most of his other priorities right now. "Hnggh!" Booker's hand went up to his nose. A painful ringing noise filled his head as he saw his blood soaked fingers. Unfortunately, his state didn't go unnoticed by the others.

Bayonetta cracked a smile. "Oh love, if you wanted to see a show, all you had to do was ask." She gracefully kicked her leg up high over her head, showing off her...unmentionables for Booker to clearly see.

"What? No!" He raised his hand over his eyes, trying to hold onto what dignity he had. "I'm a married man cut this crap out."

"Oh not ready for a little adventure? Hah! Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be begging to come back for more..."

Samus simply face palmed at her friend's idiocy, and tried to rescue Booker from the uncomfortable situation. She grabbed on to Bayonetta's arm, forcing her to regain her balance. "Cut it out. At least try to keep a professional demeanor."

"Oh you're just feeling a little jealous, aren't you?" Bayonetta's taunting fell on deaf ears, as everyone else in the room was a bit too serious for her taste. "Well it wouldn't kill you all to smile at something now, would it?" The blank stares she received told her otherwise. "Well I hope we meet _someone_ with a sense of humor."

* * *

Zhang finally spoke to the group, making sure to maintain eye contact with Spy the whole time. "Now that we've handled this situation, I think you all deserve an explanation for your being here."

"Ah, yes please," Naoto said, regaining his impersonal attitude. "I would like to learn about this place in more detail."

After a quick nod, Zhang walked toward a metal door on the left wall. As he walked over, he began his explanation. "At first, the reason X-Com started researching dimensional travel was to seek help. As you now know, this organization defended earth from its first alien invasion a year ago." He stopped briefly to scan his finger on a panel by the door. After the screen turned green, the door slid into the wall. "Recently, we have been receiving reports of new extra terrestrial activity."

Following Zhang, Booker was the first to walk through the door. The room he entered reminded him of a bar he used to frequent, complete with pool table, drink station, and even dart board. Keeping his head down, he hoped to keep his mixed feelings about the bar private. He figured he should do his best to avoid this place. His host had gestured towards the sofa at the back of the room. "Here, I figured we could have our conversation in a more comfortable position." Zhang pulled over a bar stool as Bayonetta and Spy sat down on the couch. Naoto and Samus decided to stand, and Booker went to grab another stool.

He took a deep swallow as he saw the extensive collection of alcohol they offered. The vast selections of bourbon and whiskey made his cringe. He licked his dry lips, and did his best to turn away quickly.

For the next few minutes, Zhang had described how exactly the group had ended up at X-Com. He answered what little questions he could, especially from those who were standing. Finally, he decided to discuss what he really wanted to go over.

"Now, the reason we pulled you all through was to ask for help." A few unsure gazes flew around the group. "We would be ever in your debt if you decided to help save our world, and we desperately need your help. This is a threat unlike one we've seen before."

A second later, a blunt response came from the other stool. "No." He stood up actively challenging Zhang. "You pull us out of our homes, and expect us..." He gestured to the group, trying to put heavy emphasis on the 17 year old with them. "...to fight your own war for you? Count me out."

"Mr. DeWitt, please. X-Com needs people like you to help us."

"Doesn't change a thing. This is your problem, not mine."He finished the last sentence with a dividing hand gesture, and waited for a response. After thinking for a few seconds, Zhang smirked, and found a reply.

"Very well then Mr. Dewitt, you are free to go."

"Hmm?"

"Yes, free." It only took a few seconds to realize the fault in the colonel's logic.

"...What's your game Zhang? You can't just let me go." He turned to Spy. "I know all about your 'classified' information."

"Well, if you were to leave, our security might not be keen on letting you back in. Which means no access to the ITA."

Booker went silent, and thought about his options. He technically didn't need to go back to his dimension. No matter where he was, he could get what he deserved. He glanced at his hip. It wasn't like he was unarmed, he could manage to do it himself. It was still loaded, and he'd be able to do it before Zhang had time to react. He made up his mind, that's what he was going to do. "You know Zhang, I-"

"Every one, move out of the way!" A shout came from the room the group first came out of. Two medics ran out of the metal door, carrying a stretcher. The two men standing grabbed their stools as fast as they could, and tossed them to the side. As they frantically ran passed, Booker caught a glance of the girl they were carrying. He could care less about her clothes, but one detail about her stood out more than anything else...the blood. It was flowing out of her nose... Booker's eyes were still glued on to the girl as she flew by. He just stood there for a moment, stunned. Under his breath, he quietly muttered to himself. "...so young..." His head snapped back to Zhang, and asked a single question from a solemn face.

"Where are they going?"

* * *

Ok, hello everyone who's still sticking around! After getting through that horrendous prologue, I'm happy to see some people still reading. Since this is my first actual story, I would really appreciate criticism, just be professional about it. Thanks!


	4. New Destinies

"...Huh? ...Where am I?" Junpei sat up from the wooden chair he slumped down in. After briefly observing his surroundings, his mind came to a conclusion. "N-not again!?" His mind started to race as he checked his wrist. After seeing it bare, he let out a gasp of relief. "At least I won't have to worry about that..."

That was quite a failed attempt Junpei made to lift his spirits. Even if he wasn't wearing a bomb detonator on his wrist, it didn't mean he didn't have another bomb inside of him. With great care, he slowly stood up from his chair, carefully eyeing the only obvious exit. Already sweating, the splitting headache Junpei had felt all too reminiscent. He took a quick note of the carpet on the floor, and any sharp objects he'd need to cut through it.

Slowly, Junpei approached the door at the corner of the room. To his surprise, it was completely unlocked. There were no keyholes, card receivers, or anything else that would create an obstacle rather than a doorway. A shaking hand gripped the golden handle, and turned it ever so slowly. After opening the door, a grey hall was the next thing Junpei saw.

Stepping out of the room, the first thing that caught Junpei's interest was the emblem inscribed on the wall. "Hmm... Viglio Confid-OH!" Junpei's hand shot right to his chest, feeling a dull pain erupt from his back. As blood began to seep through his plaid shirt, his knees crumpled to the ground. He felt something on his back push him of the blade imbedded in his chest. He fell to the floor in a crumpled ball of red, the massive wound in his chest gushing blood.

"...ha...ha" Junpei couldn't help but laugh during his final moments as his memories came back to him. He turned his head to his attacker, only to see a tall, blue figure morph into Junpei's own body. It backed away into the shadows, out of Junpei's already darkening vision. "...a-alright...t-ime for round two..." Junpei's head fell to the ground, and his lifeless body lay sprawled in the hall.

* * *

"Do you believe in destiny?"

"...Yes."

The arrow shot though the air, striking its target only a few inches away from the firer. Pyrrha only felt a tingle at first, as she felt the solid dust pierce right through her heart. It took a few seconds for the pain to set in. It felt cold and hot at the same time, it was unlike any pain the young huntress had ever felt before. Her head felt so light the girl could only muster a few inaudible gasps.

"Pyrrha!?"

Out of the corner of her eye she though she saw a flash of red fly out from the side of Ozpin's tower. Or maybe she hadn't. Pyrrha's vision was already blackening, and a few colored spots were forming in the darkness.

* * *

"...Gah!" Pyrrha's eyes shot wide open, and her back flew straight up in the bed she was laying in. Frantically, she searched the room she was in, spotting a man with a slight beard to her side.

"Woah, woah. Calm down kid," the man said in a calm voice. He placed his hand on the young huntress's shoulder and gently pushed down on it. Feeling utterly exhausted, Pyrrha didn't resist the force as she sank back down. He continued to speak, hoping his voice could help soothe the girl in front of him. "How are you feeling?"

Breathing heavily, it took every bit of strength to muster a response. "I-I'm...f-feeling...ah!" The sudden headache and sharp ringing caught Pyrrha off guard.

"Ah sh*t..." The man jogged out of the room with a face full of concern, and came back moments later with a tissue. Carefully, he brought it to Pyrrha's nose. She grabbed it and held it there, confused, yet still to dreary to think clearly. A second later, Pyrrha smelled a thick metallic scent, and saw the tissue was now tainted crimson. "Hold that there for a second. The blood should stop soon."

Just like the man said, the blood quickly stopped flowing. The only problem was what Pyrrha now noticed. Two long streaks of red had stained her armor, all the way from her neck to her waist. "W-what h-happened to m-me?" The man glanced from side to side, clearly hesitant to answer. He sighed, and turned back to the bed.

"Hmm, how much do you remember?"

"W-well...I..." Her eyes widened as her hand flew to her chest. "C-Cinder...she-"

"Ok, that's enough." The man's tone grew serious as he knelt down to the bed's level. "Whatever happened is over now, you're safe."

"But why? Why am I safe," said Pyrrha with a quivering voice. "T-this isn't right."

The man let out another sigh and stood up. "I know..."

The silence that filled the room left both of its occupants desperate for someone to speak. Yet neither was really prepared to talk. Both simply glanced around the room until the man finally broke the silence. "What's your name?"

Looking straight, Pyrrha took a moment to respond. She sat up, and began to speak. "My name is Pyrrha Nikos. I'm a huntress." Even though conversation was started, the thick atmosphere that blanketed the room refused to cease. "And your name?"

"Name's Booker DeWitt." Intent on raising moral, Booker kept speaking. "You said you were a huntress. What is that?"

"Hmm? You don't know?" Curious, Pyrrha readjusted in her medical bed.

"Well...You see, it's a long story. One that I'm not really fit to explain." Booker scratched the back of his neck.

"Can you at least tell me what happened? Please." She gestured towards the blood stains on her armor as she spoke.

"Are you sure? It won't be a pretty story..."

"Yes, I'm sure."

Booker swallowed hard. Explaining such a difficult topic to anyone would be a monstrous, but explaining it to a kid would be unpleasant to say the least, especially when he barely understood it himself. "Well...you know what happened before you ended up here, right?" Pyrrha gave a silent nod in response, eyes darting about the floor. "The blood...is what happens when you remember it. The body and mind struggle remembering something they shouldn't. Something from a different world."

"Different world?" The huntress tripped on her words as she spoke, her disbelief evident in her voice.

"Yes. This world you're in now is different than the one you remember. This group...you know what, I'll stop there. There's someone else better suited to tell you all this."

* _knock, knock, knock*_

Booker turned to face the door behind him. "Hmm? Oh, it's you." As Booker stepped away from the door, she saw a man, probably a few years older than herself. He wore a plaid red shirt underneath a blue jacket. He walked in to the room and spoke.

"Hey, how're you feeling? You gave me quite a scare when I found you." As he spoke to Pyrrha he scratched his neck. "All that blood coming from your nose made those medics worry."

After glancing at Booker, Pyrrha responded. "I'm...recovering. So you're the one that found me when I woke up?"

"Yeah," the man said with a small nod. "You were screaming thrashing around so I when I looked in your room so I went to find someone."

"Hmm." That served as quite a shock to Pyrrha. The only thing she remembered in this place was waking up in the hospital bed. "Well, thank you."

"No problem. It's Junpei by the way."

"Pyrrha."

"So," Booker directed at the young man. "Why are you here?"

"Oh right!" Junpei snapped his fingers together and looked towards Booker. "Bradford wants us all to head back to the conference room. He asked me to check if she was up for coming up with us."

Booker cursed under his breath before rebutting. "Come on, the girl just woke up, she hasn't even stood up yet."

"No, I'll be able to walk." With that, Pyrrha turned to the side of the bed and planted her feet on the floor. "See, I'm-woah!" Before she even took a step her knees gave out from under her. She would've fallen to the floor had she not been quickly grabbed by Booker. As he helped her up, he whispered something into her ear.

 _"Are you sure you're ok?"_

 _"Y-yes, yes. I'll be fine"_ Booker helped the girl get back on her feet. He put her arm around his neck to support her as they walked towards the door.

* * *

After the three left the medical room, they entered a rather large hallway made of some sort of metal. Carefully, Booker led the way with Pyrrha resting on her shoulder. Junpei followed close behind. Booker pointed to a hallway on their left as they walked. "Here, the conference room should be this way." Before they turned the corner Junpei abruptly started to speak.

"Oh, could we go this way instead?" He gestured towards a hallway leading to the right they had just passed. "There was something Bradford wanted me to give Pyrrha, and I had left it down there."

Confused and annoyed, Booker turned his head to Junpei. "Why didn't you just bring it with you?"

"Sorry, but they were really heavy!" Junpei said as he rose his hands in defense. "They looked really expensive and I didn't want to drop them!"

After an annoyed grunt filled the air, Booker agreed. "Fine. Pyrrha, do you think you could take the shorter route with Junpei?"

 _"S-sure."_ Pyrrha's voice was almost inaudible, and she was taking large, heavy breaths.

"Junpei, I'll carry whatever it is you brought down, take Pyrrha through the other hall."

"O-Oh umm... Do you think we could take the same path you're taking?"

"What, and make her struggle through here longer? No, of course not."

Junpei's face was growing pale. "But...ah...The bathroom! Yeah the bathroom is down that was and I really need to go!" Booker might've thought the small dance Junpei was doing would be amusing if he wasn't so through with whatever he was trying to pull.

"What? The bathroom? What on earth are you talking about?"

"Umm...yeah I haven't gone since I've woke up here and I really have to go!"

"Wha- are yo- Argh fine... We'll go your way." Utterly flabbergasted, Booker carefully passed Pyrrha to Junpei and turned back around. "Alright, let's get going." After walking for a short while, the group came upon two orange pieces of metal. One, looked like a spear of some kind, and the other looked to be a shield.

"Here they are. Booker, would you mind?"

The man walked over to metal pieces and picked them both up. "Well, ok. We've got the things. Let's keep heading up."

 _"_ H-how is that possible?" Junpei heard a much stronger voice than before. Apparently, Pyrrha had recovered quite a bit.

"Huh? What's possible?" Much to Junpei's surprise, he felt a heavy weight lift off of his shoulder. She moved over to Booker and took her weapons out of his hands.

"How..." Pyrrha was eyeing the spear in her hands, as if she was looking for something. Still unsatisfied, she let her hand glide over the flat part of the blade. "...Not even a scratch..."

"Oh wow, looks like you're walking alright kid. Kid?" The look on the girl's face became distant, as if she was focusing on something else. "Hey, Pyrrha! Pyrrha!" Suddenly, blood started to flow from her nose again, and a scream filled the hallway. Junpei quickly went to grab Pyrrha before she fell, but was quickly stopped in his path.

"Woah, woah! What is this!?" The floor beneath his feet started to shake, and actually began to split apart. Much to Booker's surprise, his hand cannon started to levitate before his very eyes.

"Hey Pyrrha God dammit listen to me!" Finally, Pyrrha flinched. The floor stopped shaking, and Pyrrha fell to her knees. She felt lightheaded, and started breathing heavily. "...Kid, are you alright?"

"Y-Yes, I'm f-fine." Slowly, she started to stand up again. "I'm alright," she said in a more confident voice as she sheathed her weapons on her back.

"Holy crap what was that?" Junpei asked, clearly stunned. "That was crazy!"

"I'm sorry about that. I...just lost myself for a moment there." Pyrrha grabbed her arm and looked down to the floor, only looking up to make a few quick glances at Booker.

"Hey kid, I know this is tough for you, but you can't go off and do something like that again. You hear me?"

"Y-Yes. I'll be more careful from here on out."

With a sigh and a nod, Booker kept walking. "Come on, we should almost be there."

* * *

The rest of the walk went on without an incident. It wasn't long before the group finally made it back to the bar area. They were about enter the conference room, but were stopped by a figure walking in from another hallway. Booker started eyeing the figure suspiciously, as he hadn't seen him before. Plus, the red and black that made up his attire wasn't the most docile of color schemes. "Hey, who're you?"

The figure had a mostly red skin tight suit, with some black straps or padding. The katanas sheathed on the figure's back took Pyrrha's notice first, but he also had many other blades and guns sheathed on his suit. The red mask the figure wore was also interesting, having the concealed eyes surrounded by more black padding.

After walking into view, the figure finally gave a response. "Oh, you could call me...Redshot."

Booker simply gave a light shrug as he stopped in front of the door. "Pyrrha, this is the place."

Nodding in affirmation, Pyrrha stepped beside him and grabbed the steel handle."Very well. Shall we head inside?" She turned the handle, only to see several figures inside of the green carpeted room, all sitting at the large, glass table in the middle of the room.

At the front of the table sat a man wearing a green sweater, sporting a military buzz cut. To next to him, there was an older man, who Pyrrha estimated to be in his 60's. His balding head and glasses certainly didn't make him look any younger. There was also a middle aged woman wearing a lab coat with some device in her hand. Pyrrha thought it looked reminiscent of a scroll she would have back home at Beacon.

Noticing the new groups presence, the sweatered man invited them to take a seat. He was organizing some papers at a podium by the front, so it looked like he'd be busy. Glancing at the table, Pyrrha just now noticed how...unique the others were. There was an incredibly tall woman in dressed in all black, another woman wearing a blue and pink skin tight suit, a masked man off in the corner with quite the fancy for the color blue, and even someone with an eye patch who wore orange and grey body armor.

Much to her relief, she found a boy about her age to sit next to. Maybe she'd be able to get some answers. "Excuse me? May I sit here?" Surprisingly, the question was met with a small chuckle from the boy.

"Hah...This isn't exactly the lunchroom you know, but yes, take a seat. My name is Naoto Shirogane."

"Oh, thank you. My name is Pyrrha Nikos."

"Hmm, well hello then Pyrrha. If I remember correctly, you were the one they were taking to the medical bay. Might I ask how you're feeling. You still seem quite uneasy."

"Just a little...shaken I suppose, but otherwise, I'm doing alright."

"Ah splendid, splendid." Naoto thought about something for a moment before continuing. "While in the med-bay, were you disclosed any information about this facility?"

"Very little. That man over there, Booker, had only told me so much."

"Hmm, well I'll try to fill in the gaps then. " Ah perfect! This is exactly what she was looking for

"Oh thank you." Now she'd just need to ask some questions. The only issue is that the man in the sweater began tapping a microphone at the podium, taking Pyrrha by surprise.

"Excuse me, can everyone here come take a seat? Our commander would like to speak with all of you here."

Naoto tapped Pyrrha on the shoulder. "Perhaps he will be able to provide a more thorough explanation than I." He then leaned back into his chair, and adjusted the navy overcoat he wore. The six others in the room all did the same, taking seats and eager to hear an explanation for where they are. Booker had taken a seat next to Pyrrha, taking a moment to reassure her. His sympathy and information he gave her had proved to make him the person whom she trusted the most at the moment.

It wasn't long after the table filled up that another man came through the door. He wore a similar black sweater to the other man, and had black rimmed glasses. He walked up to the small podium and cleared his throat. "Thank you, Lieutenant Bradford. Now..." He directed his speech towards the table. "...I'm sure many of you have some questions, so we'll do our best to answer as many as we can." He shuffled through the papers the man apparently named Bradford left on the table.

"The first I'll answer, is where you all are. She saw the man in orange body armor lean in, curious about the circumstances. Pyrrha saw Naoto quickly glance around, only for her gaze to stop on the man in all blue. "For many of you, this may come as a bitter pill to swallow, but you are in a parallel dimension to your won world." The commander's statement made a few of the people present shudder, it looked like most of them had already known.

Pyrrha felt Naoto tap her on the shoulder. He was whispering something in her ear. " _Keep an eye on that man in red. The one with the swords on his back."_ The request made very little sense, and Pyrrha just wanted to listen to the commander speaking to them.

" _Hmm? Watch Redshot? Why?"_

 _"Just please, keep an eye on him."_ After whispering back, Naoto turned back around to watch the other man. Naoto looked to be somewhat of an intellectual, so Pyrrha thought to trust his judgment. Although it would be rather difficult to both watch and listen to different things at the same time. For right know, the her highest priority would be to gain more information.

"Unfortunately, we have no means to bring you back to your worlds quite yet. However, we should have the capabilities to travel through worlds within a few months.

Just them Pyrrha had an idea. She could use her power over polarity to feel if Redshot's swords were to move. Raising her hand under the table, she tried to make a magnetic connection, but it wasn't working. Pyrrha certainly knew she had enough aura from earlier, so the inability she was faced with baffled her.

"In the mean time, our organization has only one request." Fiddling with his glasses, the commander gained a more serious, less friendly tone. "Our world is under attack, and we need assistance from people like you. If you were to help us save our people, this world would be forever in your debt."

 _"Pyrrha, any movement?"_ Naoto looked tenser than just a few minutes ago, and was grabbing a pistol at her waist.

 _"No, but I don't think Redshot's swords are real."_

 _"W-What?"_ Even though she was whispering, Pyrrha could still hear the surprise in Naoto's voice.

"We already have received answers from many of you, but for the rest, what will you do?" One by one, most of the others were agreeing to help their cause. The two women, the man with the eye patch, Naoto, Junpei, and Redshot had all said stood up in agreement. Only two people were left, Booker and the man in blue. "Mr. DeWitt, Zhang had told me that you were very vehement on your opinion. If I may ask, have you changed your mind?"

Booker looked down to the floor, pondering his decision. His cold eyes formed a squint as he was thinking. Pyrrha might have imagined it, but she thought she saw him look at her for a split second before he stood up. "Yes... I have changed my mind. I'll fight for you." He rested his hand on the glass table, and leaned in with his gaze still locked on the commander. "But, you still better do your damnest to get your dimension thing back up. Clear?"

The commander cocked a grin as he replied, "yes," to Mr. DeWitt. That is until something else grabbed the attention of everyone else in the room.

"Oh yeah, I'll join too. As long as you can give me a LIFE-time supply of chimichangas while I'm here. Kay?" Through the door came another person...one who looked exactly like Redshot. "Oh? Who's that? One of my many fans I presume," the new Redshot said with a very posh accent at the end. "Oh you must simply adore my bulging muscles, oh yes."

Even through the mask, Pyrrha could see the surprise on the first Redshot's face. He shot up from his chair and pulled out a gun, one far more ornate than the other guns he seemed to have in his arsenal. He turned and aimed it at the man in blue. Within a second, he fired it, aiming straight for the head. The man crumpled to the ground, bullet going right through his head.

* * *

 **So, most of the characters have been introduced, so I figured I should probably list all of them and the series they hail from. There's obviously X-Com, Naoto from the Persona games, Booker from Bioshock Infinite, Samus from Metroid, Bayonetta from her games, the Blue Spy from TF2, Deadpool from Marvel Comics, Deathstroke (or Slade as many know him) from DC comics, Junpei from 999, and finally, Pyrrha from RWBY. There will be more characters coming from each franchise, but these are the major players so far.**

 **As always, criticism would be appreciated tremendously!**


	5. Masks

Redshot held his hand out, and let the smoke from the Ambassador he held dissipate into the air. He figured now would be the best time to reveal his identity, as the genuine man had finally decided to show up .

Everyone in the room gasped as the red and black clothing of the supposed Redshot faded away to a blue tuxedo. To the many people now looking at him, the Spy spoke, French accent and all. "Everyone, I believe we should focus our attention on my impersonator that has now crumpled to the floor like a forgotten sack."

With that, the room's attention shifted to the man just shot in the forehead. Spy slowly walked up towards it, gun still raised. His scowl lowered when he came within a meter of the being in question. He stared down the deceased body, waiting for movement...

Perhaps he shouldn't have been standing so close...

In less than a second, the being raised its hand and flung it at Spy, launching him across the room. The French flew into the back wall with a thud, and crashed onto the carpeted floor.

The others watched in horror as the figure they thought to be dead groggily stood up. All of them but Naoto, who know gripped her evoker, were frozen in place, stunned at the events that unfolded.

The blue suddenly turned into a pale brown, and the cloth of the suit melted away into a white sludge. The masked face began to contort into horrifying images, which when accompanied by the sound of cracking bones and malignant stench, made even the most hardened grow feint.

When the creature finally stood on two feet, its hulking figure towered over all, even the seven foot witch in the room. The massive black claws, grotesque face, and small, beady eyes completed the figure... the figure of a Faceless.

Evoker in hand, Naoto was the first to react. "Sukuna Hikona!" The recovering Spy watched in amazement as the young boy summoned that...thing again. He, along with the many newcomers in the room watched as the flying blue deity flew towards the monster in the corner of the room.

As the boy ran after it, it took its bright blue beam sword and stabbed the Faceless through the chest. In response, the gelatinous figure simply grabbed the sword and tossed it aside. Spy wasn't sure, but he swore he saw the navy blue being adopt an expression of fear.

The boy that was once charging suddenly stopped in his tracks at the thing he summoned fizzled out of existence. His dark shoes slid on the floor as he desperately tried to stop. As he slid, the monster rose a hand high into the air.

It then slammed it down, launching one of its massive claws towards Naoto's head. Now terrified, he rose his hands and closed his eyes, bracing his frail body for an earth shattering impact...for much longer than he expected.

Hesitantly, he lifted his closed eyes above his arms, only to see the beats's hand was stayed by a massive torrent of water! Booker leaped onto the table with one hand commanding the powerful Undertow vigor. Huge, pulsing barnacles engulfed his hand as a swirl of blue erupted out of it. He rose his Hand Cannon to the air and turned to the rest. "Come on already! Take this thing down!"

He turned back, and completely enveloped the monster's torso in a grip of oceanic power. With a powerful pull, he ripped the monster behind him and down through the glass table.

From the open doorway, the new Redshot grabbed the katanas on his back and pulled both to his side. "...Oh yeah...This is gonna be fun!" The five powerless figures cowering from behind the podium watched as he vanished in a pulse of light, only to reappear flying through the air with the glimmer of swords dancing above him.

Bradford peeked from behind his wooden cover...and quickly turned back around as a blur of red and black came flying at him. He just dodged it in time, barely missed by the man now shredded by the glass screen he was just thrown into. The sweatered man was about to go check on him before he was interrupted once again.

A great roar echoed through the small room, followed by the pounding of massive footsteps. Bradford felt himself get tugged away by Junpei, who barely managed to pull Bradford away from the now splintering remnants of his podium. Bradford, Junpei, Vahlen, Shen, and the commander all made a break for the steel door, desperate to escape the carnage.

Trying to yell above the chaos of gunshots and explosions, the German doctor tried to talk with those she was now fleeing with. "What on earth is going on!? What was that white creature!?" She had to duck her head to avoid a crow that had started nearly taken her head off.

Doctor Shen was the first to reply. "I d-don't know!" He began panting, and began heaving his chest in and out. The second the five exited the room, he collapsed onto the floor and leaned against the wall. Clearly his body was unaccustomed to the harsh physical activity, no matter how brief. Breathing heavily, he caught his breath. "Perhaps - _hagh-_ it was an _-hagh-_ infiltration unit of some kind?

The commander quickly sealed the door before turning back to the others. "Yeah...I guess." The way the Canadian always managed to be so nonchalant about things always concerned Vahlen. She supposed it helped him make more level headed decisions, but he rarely ever became more concerned than mildly frustrated.

Junpei spoke up. "Yeah. It looked like it could morph into-whoa!" His was thrown from its position on the wall, only to see a massive dent in his place. "Geez, what's going on in there!?"

Bradford took a few steps back before answering. "...I hope our side's the winning one." He watched with a keen eye as the dent grew bigger and bigger, a massive clang audible each time.

He started to panic when he eventually saw a large crack forming on the brutally damaged wall. He quickly turned back and yelled out at the group behind him "Everyone, take cover!"

Bradford made a mad dash to the bar, and leaped over the counter top. Hiding against the many shelves against the many shelves, and saw the commander slide in from the side. The two simply stared at each other for a moment, dazed and exasperated at the current circumstances.

With great caution, the commander peeked his head above the large glasses that covered the bar. With each bash the wall took, they shook more and more.

One fell on the floor right before him, and shattered into millions of pieces. His shaking hands jumped for a moment, but then rested on the wooden table.

Moments passed, every second another pound would hit the wall.

...Pounding

...And pounding

...And pounding

It became a meditative pattern, pounding, and pounding, and pounding.

...

...

...

Suddenly, another noise came with the incessant bang. A loud screech tore through the bar as the commander quickly hunkered down behind the large table. In less than a second after, the Faceless came flying from the room, and crashed violently into the racks of glasses and liquor behind.

Bradford whipped his head behind him, frantically checking the monster that now sat behind him. Seeing its still body, he turned the other way to look across the bar.

Finding a gaping hole, he briefly saw a gigantic black hand deteriorate in front of a scantily clad Bayonetta. Now looking at the woman's nearly naked figure, Bradford quickly flinched, and turned back to the monster behind him.

It appeared to be dead, but Bradford wasn't about to take any chances. Immediately, he jumped back over the counter and whipped his pistol out. With a swift motion, he stood up and aimed his gun out, only to find the commander was already poking and prodding at the monster's corpse. "Hmm, very interesting." The black clothed Canadian stood up and beckoned Vahlen over.

Barely peeking out from behind the sofa, the doctor slowly stepped out. "I-Is it deceased?"

"Well I'm still alive now, aren't I?" the commander said with a smirk. "Don't think I'd just walk up to a monster that was still alive doctor, I'm smarter than a kindergartener you know," he said, still having a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

She sighed before walking over and mumbling something under her breath. "Von all den menschen..." The two started looking at the creature until some more scientists came to handle the corpse. The two followed them out of the room, and did their best to ignore the fowl stench that was now permeating throughout the hallway.

* * *

Braford, Shen, and Junpei had gone back to the now obliterated conference room. The glass table was shattered, the podium was smashed, the carpet was burned in many places, and of course, there was the massive hole in the wall.

Before the three, there were the many battered heroes that had fought. While some did have some mild injuries, none of them was more unsettling than the ones Redshot bore. There were giant shards of glass piercing his body in many places, streaks of crimson slashed across the black of his clothing, and Bradford even thought he saw a lung or two hanging somewhere.

Despite the terrible gashes and wounds he had, he was actually the first to speak. "Well, that was fun... So, chimichangas anyone?" Much to his disappointment, the blank stares that met him suggested a large 'no'.

Still in blissful ignorance, he asked again. "Chimichangas? Anyone?" His pleading mask glanced around the entire room before his arms crossed on his chest, pushing a shard of glass further into his body. "Well...fine then!" His body twisted into a much exaggerated pout until he finally noticed the shard that was already lodged in his chest. "Oh, I should probably get that..."

"Crap, what are you doing!?", Samus had screamed before attempting to stop the apparent lunatic from digging the glass from his body. She ran over to him and tried to stay his blood soaked hand.

"Aw, come on blondey, I'm fine! You may not know this, but I have great _stamina."_

The stress he put on the last word instantly made Samus recoil back. "W-What on earth...?"

As Naoto moved to pick up his fallen hat, he commented on the situation. "So, are you to say you are unharmed?"

"Well, I wouldn't say _unharmed_ , but hey, Deadpool is A-OK!" He thought it necessary to add a rather cartoony 'thumbs up' to his statement.

The young detective nodded in affirmation. "Ah yes, Deadpool..." I take it that is your name? Before you revealed yourself, many of us had assumed your name was Redshot due to your imposter." He gestured towards the blue tuxedoed figure that was currently on the floor, gripping his side.

The Spy slowly stood up, briefly grimacing in pain as he did so. "Ah, yes. My apologies for the confusion." He rested his hand on a chair before continuing his explanation. "That...beast had struck me and this _Deadpool_ as it were earlier. I believe it assumed it had killed us, took my form, and continued down the hallway it met us in. Apparently, it was incorrect to assume that either of us were dead."

Deadpool rested his hands behind his head and let out a chuckle before responding. "Hah, yeah. I saw you, uh, turn into me and walk away. I was just kinda tired and, ya know, just sat there for a bit."

Shen seemed impressed at the sentence he just heard. "So, you have the capabilities to morph into others as well?"

Spy shook his head. "No, no. Merely a convincing disguise powered by a cloaking device."

"Ah, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to examine that some time in the workshop." The two continued talking as Bradford and Junpei confronted the rest of the group.

* * *

Junpei pocketed his hands in his jacket before glancing at the wall. "Well...There goes the conference room." His 'matter of fact' statement was accompanied by the loud clang of metal falling.

"Most of the bar too," Booker said as he slid his golden gun into its holster. "Do you think most of the drinks were destroyed?"

"Hah, typical man." Bayonetta rolled her eyes. "Asking about the liquor before the well-being of those around him." He merely sighed in response. It might've looked like he was about to say something else, but he thought it best to hold his tongue.

Most surprising to Bradford, Bayonetta was back in her normal clothes. He probably would've been shocked had he not seen other odd occurrences that failed to rival clothing.

"Alright, everyone," Bradford said as he addressed the whole group. "I think there's been enough action for today..."

"Hah! You think?" Junpei's remark was only met with quite the perturbed glance from the man in charge.

"...Yes, I do think. Colonel Zhang will be returning shortly to show you back to your barracks. The rooms you have all woken up in will be where your weapons, clothes, and other accessories will be stored."

Most of the group responded with some nods, but the sharper members of them had noticed a problem. Naoto had decided to finally raise the concern, as he saw no one else speak after a few moments. "Excuse me, but what clothes will we be storing in these rooms, I'm assuming none of us has any l wardrobe options other than what we are currently wearing."

"Oh, ah...well..." Bradford didn't really take that into consideration. It hadn't really crossed his mind, especially since he was so used to delivering a similar orientation to the many new recruits he faced.

Much to his relief, his brief moment of panic was saved by Shen, who was now returning with Spy. "Ah, no need to worry Central. I was planning on taking a trip to the outside world in a matter of days to resupply some of our finer pieces of technology. Perhaps our friends here would like to accompany me during my trip. Maybe then, they could all get some clothing to spare."

 _"Thank you doctor...I was actually starting to panic for a moment there..."_

 _"Hah hah, no worries central, I have everything taken care of."_

Just then, a startled Zhang had walked in through the aesthetically unpleasing portal that now existed between the bar and the conference room. He nearly tripped on the torn and charred carpet as he stepped through. "What on earth happed in here!?"

Shen pretended to have not heard the question. "Ah, Colonel, perfect timing. Perhaps you would like to take our recruits down to their home for the next few months?"

* * *

...

...

...

"...Ah, welcome to the Velvet Room, hmhmhm"

Yu slowly opened his eyes to the deep blue floor he saw at his feet. The scent of fresh wine and perfume constantly flowing through the air.

Yu had seen this place many times before, and finally glanced up to see the man in the black suit, and the woman that sat to his right.

The familiar, slow music that played from its unknown source filled his ears, as he heard the long-nosed man sitting before him speak once again. "I admit, it is quite unfortunate to be meeting you once again under such inopportune circumstances, yet, fate has still weaved its events in this manner.

The eighteen year old boy in the blue cushioned chair finally realized what exactly those circumstances were, and nearly jolted out of his seat upon his realization. "...Naoto...Igor, what happened to Naoto!?"

The man chuckled, and rested his ling nose on his intertwined hands. "Do not worry, Sukuna Hikona is safe for the time being, but alas, will not be for much longer."

"Igor please, what happened to her!? Me and my friends need answers now!" Where his heart beginning to race less than a mile a minute, Yu may have noticed the tone of his voice, a tone he had never used in such a dignified place before.

The woman next to Igor began a speak, still having her eyes remained closed. "Someone has been toying with the fabric of space and time, something that has not gone unnoticed by us."

"Yes. In reality, this is one of few things that have actually managed to have wrought concern from within myself and Margaret. So, we will be taking steps to resolve this dilemma."

Margaret had finally opened her eyes. "Yu, myself and Igor will be accompanying you on this journey."

"What...?" Yu had faced many things during his time in Inaba, many horrific things. He had certainly found the importance of his trials, facing many powerful gods and beings. However, the fact that the attendants of the immaterial Velvet Room were actually concerned about this had scared Yu more than any monster or demon ever could.

"Yes, myself and Margaret will be joining you on your quest. Us, and one other shall join you."

"O-One other?"

The man chuckled. "Yes, one of your choosing. It is your task to decide who else shall accompany you on this journey."

Yu didn't even think twice about who he was going to bring.

 **Hi, I wanted to start this little segment off with a short announcement. Now that my school year has ended, I'm going to strive for some weekly uploads. With no homework or anything to worry about I'll be able to focus more on writing. So, yeah. I look forward to writing this piece even more now that most of the exposition has finished. Criticism would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!**


	6. Trick Stabs

"Uggh, fine! We'll skip the bathroom." Junpei watched in disappointment as he was carefully given the dazed huntress. Booker turned away, and started heading down the other corridor.

"I'll meet you up at the conference room in a few minutes." He didn't even look as Junpei as he waved behind him.

At the moment, Junpei was more concerned about the girl he was now carrying over his shoulder. She was heavy. Really heavy. The sheer muscle Pyrrha held made him feel like she was trying to dead lift Seven over his head. Not to mention the fancy armor she had on... Junpei was beginning to pray in his mind that he wouldn't drop the poor girl. He had barely taken any steps and he could already feel beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

Suddenly, Junpei's desperate struggle was interrupted by a loud scream coming from behind him.

"Huh, what was that?" The young man started frantically glancing around him. He couldn't just leave Pyrrha alone right now, could he? He really would need to go check on Booker, God forbid that was him screaming. He could take care of himself though, right? He looked like he was experienced. Plus, he had that massive pistol holstered around his hip, so no one in their right mind would attack him...right?

Junpei had made up his mind. He carefully placed Pyrrha against the wall, leaning her back up straight. She looked half asleep already, so maybe she wouldn't mind him gone for a moment? He thought about saying something, but figured it was probably for the best to just let her rest.

After some mild hesitation, Junpei started jogging over to the other hallway. As he turned the corner...Junpei froze in horror.

There was blood. Blood everywhere. The dark crimson coated the floor, the walls, and even some splotches on the ceiling. The dark smell filled the room, and caused the young man to gag. It took him only a moment to see the black leather jacket that lay covered in bodily remains.

Stunned, Junpei tries to shield his face from the butchered remains of the man he saw only moments ago. His arms covered his eyes as he started backing away from the red hall. Blind to the rest of the world, he screamed in agony as something large pierced his chest.

Reflexively shooting his eyes open, the helpless man saw a grotesque figure of white before him, with one of its long, slime coated arms disappearing under the plaid shirt. Just before his vision faded to black, Junpei spat a splatter of blood from his mouth.

He felt himself lose consciousness as the monster tore its arm free from the chest.

* * *

"Ah, thank you Colonel Zhang." The Spy opened the door to his room after politely thanking the Chinese man behind him. Once he was sure the door was closed, he pulled the bottle of whiskey he had concealed beneath his blue suit. Spy certainly wasn't going to let good alcohol go to waste.

Now within the confines of his private room, he turned the bottle to examine the label. Much to his disappointment, it wasn't up to his standards. "Hmm, American..." Spy had a great distaste for most things that came from the same country as that blubbering idiot he knew, but alas, beggars can't be choosers.

After praising himself for pilfering it before their confrontation, he slowly placed the drink on the wooden table in the rooms center. Scanning the room, he saw another door in the back corner, next to the large screen. Now finding himself within the bathroom, Spy grabbed himself one of the many cups that sat on a shelf.

Chucking to himself about drinking in a paper cup, the French closed the bathroom door and strolled back to his main room. Only when he did, he saw something quite odd on the table.

Instead of the American whiskey, there now sat one of the finest scotches Spy had ever seen. It even sat on a silver platter, complete with a rather expensive looking glass. Concerned, the man then noticed the note that sat half covered by the authentic silver. He glanced around the abandoned room before picking up the piece of yellow paper.

 _A gift for one of the only people there with a head on his shoulders. Take good care to hide the glass and platter before nightfall. Take even greater care to keep you and your companions away from the locksmith._

 _-R.L._

After checking the flipped side of the paper, the Spy set it back down on the table. He took another check around the room before finally settling his gaze on the scotch that sit before him...

* * *

"Would all VIP personnel please report to mission control. I repeat, would all VIP personnel please report to mission control."

Spy's sleep was interrupted by the loud and scratchy intercom in his room. He sat up, stretched his arms out, and let out a long yawn before he slid out of the green covers on his bed. The man then changed out of the pajamas X-Com had provided before walking into the newly found bathroom to take a quick shower. While Spy considered the material of the clothing to be average at best, the emblem sewn onto the chest had been scratching him all night. Suffice it to say, it had been a relief to finally take them off.

Upon looking in the mirror, the man had hesitantly decided against shaving with the tools that were additionally given. He had stared at his unmasked face for a few moments, but thought that it would just waste more time. Who knows, these X-Com people might not be talking out of their asses this time to please the so called 'VIPs'.

As the water rushed down onto his face, the Spy confirmed in his mind one simple fact. To this military facility, this group of nine were merely soldiers to fight in their war. Once these imbecilic doctors and colonels figured that out, life would become much more difficult.

Spy dressed himself in his only attire, his blue suit and mask. Priding himself as a gentleman, the very idea of wearing the same set of clothes two days in a row made him cringe. Alas, he thought to himself, beggars can't be choosers. Hopefully this trip to the rest of the world would come sooner rather than later.

Before leaving into the hallway, the French man stopped at the empty dresser. Pulled open the drawer, and had actually removed it from the piece of furniture. Behind it sat the silver platter, leaned up against the back wall. Upon finding his strange gift, he closed the drawer up and proceeded out the door.

Much to his delight, there appeared to be no other in the dismal corridor. One of the doors was open though, so there must have been at least one other person ahead. As Spy opened the door to the large, open room, he saw someone by the elevator. It appeared to be the man with the eye patch, but the only thing visible right now was his orange armor.

This person was still a relatively unknown variable at the moment. He hadn't talked much, so no one really knew what his personality was yet. Perhaps now would be a good time to correct that error. Plus, it sure had been a while since Spy's manipulation muscles had been flexed. He hoped the small smirk on his face would remain hidden.

"Interesting predicament we find ourselves in, no?" A simple ice breaker question for the given situation. Something both parties would be able to converse about, and the answer Spy received should reveal something about the person of interest.

"Hmm...yeah. Complete bs though..." Hmm, slow response, very blunt, clearly someone not prone to social interaction. He probably prided himself as a very serious person, if the sight of his back while he talked was any indication.

"Yes, quite. Well we will just have to persevere Mr..."

He finally turned around to face the man behind him, and actually stared for a moment with the one eye he had left. Spy would've worried about being to blunt himself had he not been thinking about a certain Scotsman.

After a quick moment of a very awkward staring contest, the unknown man finally replied "Deathstroke." When he answered, the elevator doors had finally pulled open, and he eagerly stepped inside.

Stepping in right behind him, Spy kept up his assault. "Ah, Deathstroke...Deathstroke. If you wouldn't mind, do you share any relation to Deadpool? I see you have similar styles of combat."

"No, no relation..." Following his brief statement, Spy was once again reunited with the sight of Deathstroke's back. Figuring he probably had enough trite conversation for one day, Spy thought that staying behind the coarse man for the remainder of the elevator ride would be the best decision.

He leaned against the back wall and lit a cigarette. This might not be the easiest man to manipulate, but if first impressions were to be believed, his attitude might be the most predictable...

* * *

After entering the ruins of the conference room, Spy had taken note of the many engineers that were at work repairing. He slowed his pace, just enough to fall behind Deathstroke. Surveying the room, he spotted an engineer wearing a large metal mask. After a moment of waiting, sparks started to fly out from in front of him. Spy let out a small grin after walking past the man who was completely oblivious to the world around him.

Shen had previously given him the location of the workshop. The key card that the French now slid into his pocket would make infiltration as easy as stabbing a Red Sniper in the back.

Spy was running to catch up with Deathstroke when he saw the man turn a corner in the long metal hallway. The voice over the intercom had said to meet in mission control...maybe this man knew how to get there? Spy was a little busy disguised for the majority of last night. He mentally kicked himself for not asking for as much information as he could before retiring for the night.

Turning the same corner, he entered a grand looking room, filled with a loud atmosphere of panicked speak and an aura of organized chaos. There were dozens and dozens of computers and personnel busy at work, but the thing that was in the middle of the room seemed to be the most intriguing. There was a giant holographic globe spinning in the center with many symbols and markings that only served to confuse.

Spy then saw Bradford leaning against one of the rails that separated the globe from the rest of the facility. He was staring intently at the holographic image, so much so that he didn't seem to notice the presence of the small group behind him.

Aside from the other X-Com personnel running around, there was Naoto, Deathstroke, Booker, and Pyrrha. The latter of them seemed to be staying quite close to Booker, who was busy staring at the globe in awe.

Bradford finally turned around to see the French that was approaching them. "Ah, hello Spy."

"Greetings Lieutenant," Spy greeted as he placed his hands behind his back. He gave a quick nod to the others that were standing behind him. "I see why this place is referred to as mission control," he said while gesturing towards the holographic image beside him.

Bradford had smiled at his statement. "Yes, this here is our hologlobe. It allows us to view key information about the world at a moment's notice." He changed his focus from Spy to another man sitting at a computer. "Bring North America into focus."

After a quick "yes sir," the blue wireframe image of North America grew larger, and dozens of major cities across the map began to be labeled. A symbol or two appeared beside each one, usually accompanied by some numbers.

Bradford turned back to the people standing before him. "This is how we will determine your mission locations. We monitor the alien activity in any given area, and when it becomes too high for our liking, we send you in."

Out of the corner of his eye, Spy spotted Booker and Pyrrha whispering to each other. Those two seemed to be staying quite close to one another. Perhaps it might be worth looking into...

Bradford began to speak again. "My next point, is that we have our first field mission planned." Although not jarring, this situation was certainly surprising to the usually steadfast Spy. Why, he hadn't even been here for more than 48 hours, and they were already planning on combat!? Just before he was about to comment, Naoto beat him to the punch.

"Surly this seems a little premature at this point." His usual calm and coordinated demeanor actually seemed to shift to a more unsure state. That is, if the defensive stance he took, stepping forwards and facing his shoulder towards Bradford, was anything to go by. "It seems many of us have some powerful abilities. Do you not think it would be unwise to send us out with little information regarding our potential!?"

He seemed to be speaking more for himself than the safety of the others, and honestly, Spy couldn't blame him. Of course Naoto himself had some disconcerting powers of some sort, but others such as Booker, Bayonetta, and even Spy himself had demonstrated feats that would be impossible for the average person. If one of them alone could bash through a thick steel wall with a massive fist that could be summoned at will, who knows what the others are capable of?

Spy knows that at least one person here is not to be trusted, that naturally being himself. If anyone else is not to be trusted...then problems begin to form. His only worry is that someone else might not be as subtle as he is. The last thing he needs is some barbarian shooting lightning at him.

Booker was the next person to speak. "I agree with the kid. We should have more time to get used to living here before you send us off to fight." Naoto seemed to flinch slightly, despite him agreeing with him. Very few people had noticed though.

"Not to worry, Mr. DeWitt. This will merely be a reconnaissance mission." While he rebuffed Booker's argument, someone at a computer had highlighted brought the focus point of the globe to somewhere in Japan. "We have received reports of alien activity in this area, as well as some strange energy readings. All we need you to do is survey and report. Whether or not you chose to engage is up to you."

Naoto once again chose to comment. "That still doesn't resolve the conflict of the many unknown abilities some of us may or may not possess. What were to happen if someone were to betray while we are supposed to be retaining stealth?"

"That is why I will be accompanying you." The group turned back to the entrance of mission control to see Colonel Zhang walking down the stairs. "For this very reason the commander has seen it fit to send one of his most capable soldiers on this mission as well."

"I'd hate to break it to you..." Deathstroke began, "but a simple soldier wouldn't stand much of a chance against some of us." He was serious, but the mockery and rebellion was clear in his voice.

The Colonel let out a chuckle in response before lifting his hand. Seeing his movement, Deathstroke bent his knees and slightly turned away, adopting a more defensive stance. However, his brief preparation was no match for the massive wave of energy that then flew him across the room, causing him to flail against the far wall.

When he lowered his outstretched hand, his eyes could be seen emanating a luminous purple before fading back to their normal color. "As you can see, I am no 'simple soldier'."

The words "yeah...I see" were barely audible from across the room.

* * *

Once the rest of the group arrived, both Bradford and Zhang had delivered a similar briefing. Of course, there had been further arguments against the escapade, but they were all futile from their conception. During the briefing's conclusion, the commander had come down to mission control to iron out some further details.

The black dressed Canadian man had strolled down the stairway with a pep to his step. Once he reached the bottom he clapped his hands together with a content grin on his face before speaking. "So, as you all know, this mission has a heavy reliance on stealth. Because of this, we thought some of you wouldn't exactly...be the right fit for this mission."

"Only a few of you will be participating," Bradford had added. He was about to continue before a great outburst from Deadpool interrupted him.

"I feel discriminated against! That's racist!" He was swiftly met with a slap to the back of the head by Samus who was standing right behind him.

"Shut up you idiot!" It's amazing how bipolar that crazy man can be.

" _Oh my mistress, how you wound me"_ His had rose to his forehead, and Spy actually thought he saw his eyes change to the shape of hearts. " _Please, I beg of your forgiveness!"_ He promptly fell in front of the intergalactic bounty hunter, how simply let him fall to the floor in disgust.

"Anyway!" Bradford cut in, "Those who will be going on the mission includes Samus, Naoto, Spy, Deathstroke, and of course, Colonel Zhang."

"Additionally, Spy will be chosen to be a secondary leader for this recon mission," Bradford added. "You will all have radio contact with the commander for instructions, but Spy's expertise in stealth may prove to be invaluable.

 _Oh, what's this?_ Spy thought to himself. _Did these imbecilic fools really just give me, the backstabbing Spy power over this mission. They truly must be a poor judge of character. This will certainly be a fruitful excursion..._

* * *

 **Hello once again! Now most of the exposition has been finished up, so the next chapter is when things will start getting interesting! Of course, there will be many details hinting at developments to come. As always, criticism would by highly appreciated...so if you all could do that...thanks...**


	7. Mission One

Samus fiddled with her fingers for the majority of the ride to the mission site, an action she would be kicking herself over had she been in an average situation.

To put things bluntly, she felt naked...and no, that wasn't because of the skin tight suit that she was wearing in front of complete strangers. Samus was quickly beginning to miss her Power Suit that she normally wore into combat. The extra layer of protection it provided was invaluable, and she was feeling a slight bit jittery without it.

The bounty hunter's internal strife was interrupted by the voice of Bradford over the screeching intercom of the jet. "Alright strike team, you're approaching the mission site. Prepare for deployment in T minus five minutes."

She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous, even if it was only a little bit. She was nervous every time she was confronting the unknown, but she felt cornered by the many factors that added to her anxiety. Being in an alternate universe, being stripped of her power suit, having to answer to a man who would clearly betray at his first opportunity...the list went on and on.

Alas, the courageous Samus Aran would work through it, like she had dozens of times before. She knew in her mind the difference between bravery and courage. Only idiots and fools were brave and showed no fear. It's a vital instinct for survival, and any person who felt none of it was doomed from the start. People who were courageous worked through their fears, and never had their progress be hampered by the instinct.

She saw Deathstroke clean a sniper rifle he took from his back.

Samus shot a gaze at that cocky excuse for a man that would be her superior for the time being. Even though these X-Com "specialists" had placed him in charge of this mission she was currently engaging in, she didn't feel the need to like it. She begged and prayed in her mind, desperately hoping the commander had some ulterior motive when he placed the Spy in a position of any power at all. Anyone could tell he was a conniving, backstabbing traitor who was only in it for himself.

Naoto had started loading his pistol, and checked the spare ammunition he kept in his pocket.

Just as Samus was running a list of all the ways she should keep a close the French assassin, she felt the communications device in her ear vibrate, as the flippant words of the commander rang through her mind. "Hello! You all should be arriving in a few minutes, so I'll do my best to keep this brief."

Colonel Zhang had stood up from his seat, and grabbed a rocket from a chest underneath his seat.

"I'll be in contact with you for the whole time, giving you instructions and all that, but Spy will be the main person who will be leading this excursion."

The man in question had slipped a pocket knife up his sleeve.

"We're all trying to keep a low profile, so do your best to not blow everything up. Ok?"

"Yes commander," Zhang replied in his usual stoic tone as he stored the missile on his back. "We'll report everything we find back to mission control."

"Alright, great! Spy, you're the master of stealth here, so call the shots when you guys land. Positions and strategies and stuff like that." Master of stealth? What exactly warranted that moniker? First impressions. Samus had done her fair share of covert operations during her many ventures across the universe. She would almost certainly be able to give this buffoon a run for his money when it came to sneaking around, but no. He was dubbed the expert on the matter because of his horrendous exploits that should've gotten someone killed.

"Affirmative," the French man chuckled out in response, still as arrogant as ever. "I assure you, I will not disappoint." He cocked a grin and sat back against the jet's internal wall.

"Strike team!" went the muffled voice of the pilot. "We're landing, get ready for deployment!" The plane lurched forward as the sound of the engine began to cut. The rear hatch began to break free as the Raven slowly came in contact from the ground. Weapons in hand, the odd team began to flood out into the wilderness.

* * *

Samus prepared her stun gun as she exited the jet. She held it up, taking quick and careful steps as she took cover behind a thick pine tree. Watching as her comrades followed suit, the bounty hunter surveyed the land around her. She found herself within a dense forest, filled to the brim with pine trees. Quite the welcoming area, especially compared to the desolate planets or abandoned spacecrafts Samus usually had the pleasure of exploring. Heck, the place even felt reminiscent of her old home on K2-L.

The communications device in her ear buzzed to life once again. "Hey, me again," the commander greeted. "The place your looking for is still a ways away. Just keep moving until you see anything." After briefly acknowledging the commander, the group of five began slowly moving forwards, and thankfully, the Spy had yet to say a word.

"Deathstroke, stay here." Well the silence was good while it lasted. "Cover us with that sniper rifle of yours," ordered a low voice. Looking towards its source, Samus saw Spy taking a position behind a tree not too far away from her own. He held up a thin, silver pistol before disappearing into the abyss. He must have quite the arsenal at his disposal...

Deathstroke had slid behind a few large rocks as he grabbed the gun from behind his shoulder. The sound of the rifle's long barrel sliding through stone was accompanied by a quick "in position", that might have sounded a tad annoyed.

Zhang was holding the rear. Clearly, his heavy and cumbersome LMG made sneaking around far more difficult that it should be. Naoto was just in front of the colonel, slowly walking through the foliage with his pistol pointed down.

The Spy reappeared a few dozen meters ahead, crouching behind a bush and silently beckoning the others to his location. Samus had darted from tree to tree, until she ducked next to the man in blue. Naoto and Zhang quickly followed suit, and did the same. When they did, the communications device in their ear buzzed to life once again.

Their pattern continued for what felt like an hour. Spy would cloak, and call the others over under the protection of their sniper. It was almost becoming rhythmic, as there was almost no surprises aside from some light chatter over the radio waves. That is, until Samus decided to take the conversation a bit further. "So, what are all of your stories?"

The cloaked gentleman had tripped, and fell face first as he became visible. His flailing arms did very little to protect him from his fall as he landed in the dirt. "I-I beg your pardon?" he stuttered out as he turned to his sides. "Our stories?"

"Yeah." Samus deadpanned as she walked over him, still staring out into the distance. "I want to know who you all are, _what_ you all are..." It would be good to get as much information as possible about her companions as possible, and knowing their histories would help her deduce who she could trust.

For a moment there was a long interim of silence amongst the once amiable group. In fact, everyone seemed to stop pressing onward for a moment. Whether that was because of their leader's lack of progress, or just their stunned reactions to the woman's demands was left a mystery. There was one thing Samus knew for sure, and that is that her request was met with a stiff decline.

 _Ah sh*t_ , she had come off as too prying hadn't she...While information would be invaluable, she'd rather not risk her own standing with them. Sure, Samus already knew Bayonetta, but she was merely...an annoying acquaintance at best, and it looked like the rest had similar opinions.

Biting her lip, the bounty hunter desperately tried to think of some way to diffuse the now tense situation. She was pretty positive that a _just kidding_ wouldn't do her much good.

"Uh...hello?" The commander had tried to interrupt the deafening silence, but an infant could hear the weariness of his voice. "Are we...ah...all still alive out there?"

"Yes, I was simply pondering how I should explain my journey." Much to Samus's surprise, she found the enigmatic Naoto stepping next to her, away from the others. The deep glare he was giving was drastically different from the calm, confident voice he provided over the radio, and thankfully went unnoticed by the recovering Spy who was still patting off his clothing.

Samus could barely mouth a _thank you_ before the boy started talking again. "While my exploits may pale in comparison to some of yours, I'm sure you'll all still find merit in listening."

"OH! A-Ah...great, great! Y-Yeah sure, Naoto. Tell us where you came from!" After the commander's sad excuse for a recovery, began to speak as he turned and continued walking.

"In my home dimension, me and a few associates of mine got involved in a murder investigation. After finding some bizarre occurrences that the world likely not accept, we decided to take matters into our own hands."

"Hah," chuckled Zhang now walking up from behind. "You seem like someone who would go to the proper authorities Naoto." He shook his head. "It just seems irresponsible to try to take matters into your own hands."

"Well, I think you've all seen why we couldn't exactly go to the police," Naoto rebutted. He grabbed that strange white gun and twirled it around his finger before holstering it. "I might even say we were more equipped to deal with the situation."

The earpiece crackled to life with the voice of the commander. "Well the least you could've done was get _some_ member of law enforcement in on it too, right? You said it was a murder investigation, so maybe a detective would be helpful, eh?"

Naoto stopped for a moment, and lowered his hat. Samus saw him crack a smirk, but doubted that anyone else saw. "...Yes, perhaps those would've been ideal circumstances." He spoke, and then immediately swiveled his head to canvass the area. Content with Samus being the only one in his immediate vicinity, he quickly ripped the device from his ear and gripped it tightly.

His eyes met those of the space warrior before him in an unstinting stare. The boy glanced around one more time before dropping his voice to a whisper. " _Half of the people here will already have their own agendas planned. I suggest you don't show of yours too early."_

The blatant honesty and apparent trust thrust into Samus startled her a bit. Isn't what he just said extremely hypocritical? Out of all the people Naoto could've confided with, he had saved the woman in front of him. Why?

The question was baffling, and answers already began to fly around a millisecond after the question was thought of. Was it out of pity? Did Samus already give off the impression of some hopeless wannabe who had no social cunning?

No, that couldn't be true. Sure, manipulation it wasn't one of her strong suits, but she far was more capable than an average Joe. She was Samus freaking Aran, defender of the galaxy. Earlier was just a simple mistake, right?

Samus replied to the boy with a nod, and stepped in closer to him. " _And what of you? Are you already planning on stabbing anyone in the back?"_ She couldn't back down now, or else she risked her reputation being as good as trash, the idiot who threw the queen right into the middle of the board without a second thought.

Naoto smiled at the accusation directed towards him. _"Well that depends...are you?"_ That was it. That kid was already causing enough stress without being completely vague, f*ck this cryptic little b*tch!

* * *

The rest of the trek went mostly without a hitch, aside from a few strained looks to and from Naoto. She had gotten the back stories from most of the group. Spy described himself as a simple mercenary, currently fighting in a war for some cash. Zhang had said that he had been with X-Com for most of his life, but if the commander's constant stuttering and hesitation were anything to go by, it would require some deeper digging.

Samus had done her best to keep her details to a minimum, only saying that she was a bounty hunter that regularly fought against space pirates. There were just too many details that she would rather keep forgotten, and seeming as bland as possible would help her lay under the inquisitive radar of the others, although Deadpool had already highlighted some factors that would make that difficult...

Most of the group would've forgotten about Deathstroke had he not finally said a word. "Hold on, there's something ahead of you," he had warned from his latest sniping position. He eyed through his gun's scope to find some kind of structure a couple hundred meters beyond the Spy. "There's an active building. Looks pretty futuristic," he commented after noticing the glowing cables running along the metal walls. "I see movement."

"What movement?" The commander inquired. "What figures do you see? Human? Robotic? Alien?"

"Not sure...most look humanoid, but that could mean anything." He looked up from the rifle and squinted through the trees, desperately trying to see anything he could.

"Is that all?" the commander stuttered out. "N-No...monstrous figures...robotic arms...anything like that? Anything unusual?"

"Hmm..." Deathstroke stared at the building he saw. Could there really be any aliens there? It wouldn't be the strangest thing he saw, but definitely up there.

There was a silence that once again blanketed the forest. There was no communication between operatives, no quips from the commander, and even the forest itself seemed to back down. That is, it was silent until the earpieces began to ring once more.

* * *

The commander assessed the options he had in front of him. He had five soldiers...four of which were completely unknown variables.

He leaned back in the his black leather chair and took a long breath. A low growl escaped his mouth, attracting the attention of the small team around him. Vahlen, Bradford, and Shen all stepped back, knowing the persona their leader was now adopting.

The Canadian before them grabbed onto the microphone on his wooden table with an iron grip as his scowl lowered down. "Spy, cloak up and give us reconnaissance." If he was to guide his solders through the labyrinth formations and strategies, information would be irreplaceable. "Tell us what we're dealing with here."

The French man hid a grimace on his face before answering a curt "affirmative," and quickly dissolved into the background. The only trace of his presence were the light footfalls that could be heard on soft grass. Samus had turned her head, and eyed the spot where the subtle tune was coming from. _Well I guess his cloaking isn't perfect._ With that, she refocused and took some haphazard cover behind a fallen log.

"Deathstroke, follow him. Give him back up should he need it," the commander barked out with little trace of the amiable man he was.

"Got it," he said as he packed up his sniper rifle.

For a moment, the Spy's steps had ceased, and were replaced by a faint noise. He had taken in a sharp breath as soon as the order was given. For a couple of second, he just stood there. Not many were likely to notice other than Samus, but it still struck her as odd. As she heard quiet clank if body armor come closer though, the steps continued, and eventually were muffled out by the heavier ones of Deathstroke.

The remaining three had followed the two, taking great care to leave a large gap between the scouts and themselves.

Far ahead of them, Spy was proceeding with the utmost caution as he approached. Even while he was cloaked, he still did his best to avoid any loose twigs. Just a few meters behind, Deathstroke was doing much of the same. However once the two were met with a clearing amongst the forest, they froze, and ducked beside a large bush.

Spy had kept his back turned to the man beside him, only taking time to view the building that sat before him. It actually pretty small, but the strange lights, cables, and devices that coated its exterior still managed to make it seem imposing...Well, there were also the five inhuman figures that were patrolling the area.

He uncloaked, and quickly glanced behind him to see Deathstroke, who started speaking into his earpiece. "There are five...things here." He unsheathed a long sword off his back before continuing. "Probably alien." If their appearance was anything to go by, then he was probably right.

They were a faded brown color, and had skin shredded, leathery skin that seemed to be sagging off of the thin, lanky body they clung on to. They were walking on all fours, low to the ground, and darted around the ground in quick bursts, only raising their large eyes and misshapen mouth full of jagged teeth to the world after they stopped.

"Any weapons?" the commander inquired. If he was to outsmart them, knowing their role would be an essential piece of information. Were they front line fighters, like Mutons? Were they stealth units, like Thin Men?

"...No, none that I could see," Deathstroke replied after a small pause. "But they look fast...hard to outrun."

 _Hmm, melee unit. Like Chryssalids._ "Avoid them as much as possible. Keep your distance and they shouldn't be an issue." _Well, time to stop wasting time._ "Spy, keep going on ahead. See if you can't sneak inside that building."

"Hah, I'd thought you'd never ask," he replied with a sting of malice before cloaking once again. Slowly, he proceeded forward, into the clearing. The only thing between him and the closely guarded building was a stretch of about 20 meters, and 5 aliens. _Clearly, this shouldn't be a challenge for a 'master of stealth' such as myself._

He slowly stepped out of the tree line, barely making a sound as he crossed the expanse of grass. Spy had kept creeping closer and closer until an alien had come within a meter of him. He froze, not even taking in a breath, as the creature stopped. It lifted its grotesque face to the sky, exposing the terrible stench from its mouth to fly freely throughout the air. The two stayed perfectly still, until the creature eventually moved on.

 _See, piece of cake. I'd more trouble backstabbing a deaf Heavy with lead boots._ Those were the last words the Spy thought before he felt himself sink into the ground slightly. He looked down to his feet to see the soil beneath him give way to a flat metal device of some sort...that promptly began to emit a high pitched screeching noise and enough flashing lights to see for miles.

Merely a second had passed before he saw a lightning fast blob of brown flying through the air towards him.

* * *

"Brother, do you think we should lend a greater hand in aiding this excursion? The enemy already seems to have planted his own infrastructure."

"Why would you think that sister? One of us are bound to stop him. If it doesn't happen to be us, then so be it."

"Yes, brother. I understand, but if the enemy succeeds in one dimension, what is to happen to the rest?"

"The _rest_ is a mathematical impossibility. There is no _rest_. What has taken over your mind sister? There is no reason to fret."

"Hmm...You are right brother. I was merely attempting to understand the scale of his endeavors. Of course, if it is only one universe that falls at a time, then there is no reason for doubt after all."

"Quite right sister...You know, even beating you in a typical sibling argument isn't nearly quite as satisfying as I imagine."

"Chin up, there's always next time."

"A fair point."

* * *

 **Wow. Me, be less busy over the summer? Oh, how wonderful blissful ignorance was... Anyway, the story is now progressing and tensions are rising between characters! What will come out of this? You'll just have to wait and see!**

 **Also, I'll be working on a new story so this one might not be updated for a couple of weeks. Hopefully, it should take this long to write two chapters instead of just one...but I'll just have to write harder.**

 **As always, reviews and criticism would be highly appreciated!**


	8. Odd Situations

Spy looked down in horror at the device that clamped on his ankle. He would've thought it to be a mine, had he seen it from afar, but the high pitch whine the blasted thing shrieked out told him otherwise. The man then looked at the creature that was hurtling towards him. Its sagging skin brushed against the ground as it rushed him, and it brandished its yellow fangs as it snarled.

In a desperate attempt to defend himself, Spy drew the pistol he had holstered as fast as possible. However, he'd never be able to get a proper shot out. The moment he had it gripped, the creature was already in mid lunge, scrawny arms stretched into the air. Just as it was about to mangle to poor Frenchman, a sword from behind his blue suit slashed across its chest.

The monster squealed in pain as it was thrown to the side, and quickly pursued by a whirlwind of shimmering metal. Spy watched as Deathstroke slashed and slashed, tearing gash after gash across the monster's chest. He quickly deduced that the man must've leapt out from behind the brush to his aid, how thoughtful. Spy might have even considered being thankful for the act of bloodlust were his head not getting assaulted by the commander's barking.

From behind the slight crackle of the intercom, the commander stated calling out positions, and places to take cover. His eyes ran across the several monitors on top of the desk he was positioned at, each on providing a different view of the area. A brief flash of motion caught his attention, and the bespectacled spheres shot to the left. Another creature, rushing their left side fast. "Zhang, watch your flank," he yelled quickly.

"On it," Zhang curtly responded. The commander watched with anticipation as the colonel slid over a fallen tree trunk, rushing to find an opening to strike. Just as expected, he found it. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips one of his most trusted operatives gunned down the foe with his plasma LMG, leaving green stains of scorched earth next to the smoking corpse.

"Keep watching the area, hold up anything that tries to hit the group," he ordered. This time though, Zhang only offered a quick grunt before his weapon was already pelting the ground with more fire. Two more, crawling down from the walls were already advancing on their position.

The commander glanced up at tech screen, and saw them recoil from the gunfire tat lit up the ground barely a meter in front of them. Without breaking a sweat, the green armored colonel sprinted away from his position, even with his heavy armor. The commander watched intently, eyes scanning for anything else that could pose an immediate threat.

The remaining aliens seemed to be aggressive, but were only stalking from a distance. Slightly disconcerting, but nothing immediately dangerous. That is, they weren't dangerous until Deathstroke noticed them.

His sword pierced the shagged skin of one corpse, pining it to the ground. He pulled it out with a quick motion, and returned it to the sheath on his back. His head rotated slowly, and two prowling figures caught the attention of his sole eye.

He shot a harrowing gaze towards them, and pulled out two sub-machine guns from holsters on his thighs. With an ear splitting battle cry, he charged at them, spraying bullets wildly. The aliens shrieked back, stunned by the sudden attack. They both jumped back before charging down the man himself, much to the commander's horror.

"Deathstroke! The hell are you doing?!" he screamed into the microphone. "Pull back, wait for reinforcements!"

"Gah! Shut up," he gritted out in-between the bursts of gunfire.

"Deathstroke, I repeat, hold back!" The commander continued to blast commands, but Deathstroke listened to none of it. The man was set on attacking the creature by himself.

"Deathstroke, wait!" Naoto briefly appeared from behind his cover, and reached a futile hand out. Anxious, he and Samus watched from the edge of the clearing. The capped boy took a quick glance at the women crouching a little way's away. He bit his lip, and furrowed his brow slightly, pondering what to do. That's when he realized that there was still a man trapped in the middle of the clearing. His head quickly snapped back to the field, and saw that Spy was still struggling with the device that clutched on to his leg. He nodded to himself before setting off at a sprint. "Samus, cover me," he called from behind his back. "I'm going in to assist Spy."

He'd never be able to tell what exactly the blonde woman did in return, as she was taking a quick precaution to stay in as good a position as possible. "Commander, I'm heading in to aid Spy." He wasn't entirely sure whether or not the man would even answer; as he was still mouthing off to the rogue soldier. Much to Naoto's surprise, he actually replied a brief second later.

"Hmm? Oh yeah. Move in to help him out," he commented with a very surprising nonchalant voice before going back to drilling Deathstroke. The boy allowed his mouth to form a satisfied grin while he ran, content with the actions that just took place,

It was obvious that the commander was not one who easily tolerated acting out of turn, if his reaction to Deathstroke's outburst was anything to go by. The last thing Naoto would want to do is be added to that same category. By going out of her way to ask for permission, not only did she avoid being lumped in with Deathstroke, but she could actually be used as an example for the contrary.

Managing these many interlocking relationships will be key to surviving in this world, whether it truly is an alternate dimension or not. The commander seems to be the highest priority, being the head of this whole operation. Attaining his trust and getting on his good side should mean getting more influence in whatever happens within this 'X-Com project'.

That being said, she likely wouldn't be able to get too much done. She is an outsider after all, and would have great difficulty with making him think differently about anything. With this in mind, she already had her next target in mind. If she couldn't managed influence the commander through conventional means, than she'd have to settle for something a bit more…indirect.

"Spy, have you made any progress in removing the device on your leg." By the time Naoto caught up with her thoughts, he had already reached her destination.

"Unfortunately no," he replied with a frustrated frown. "It seems to be quite attached." He had been ducking down, and doing his best to avoid any stray fire, an action Naoto quickly followed.

"Yes, quite stuck indeed…" The capped boy looked at it quickly, and reached out to touch it, although quickly retracted it as he realized he had absolutely no idea what to do. It was completely comprised with foreign technology; technology he was woefully unfamiliar with. "Hmm…"

"Anytime is fine, don't worry about me," Spy remarked. "I'm only stuck in the middle of a battlefield! No need to rush!"

Naoto took a deep breath, hold on. He couldn't really figure out what to, and didn't really want to risk much. In the end, there really only seemed to be one course of action that made sense. The boy quickly stepped back, whipped out his pistol, and fired a quick shot at the device. As the sparks flew, Spy jumped back in shock.

"What the hell!" he yelled with a heavy accent. "Have you no common decency you child?" he accused.

"The device is off, no?" Naoto countered, already ducking past the Spy. He took cover behind a nearby rock, and watched as Deathstroke continued pursuing their targets. He also noted that Zhang was still peppering fire towards them, doing his best to keep them contained while also avoiding their teammate. He then glanced back towards Spy, "What was that about 'being stuck in the middle of a battlefield'?" he quipped.

The man grunted with slight annoyance. "You're lucky you got it off." He followed the boy's path, taking cover by the same rock with pistol in hand. Upon a close examination, it had a long, thick, and silver barrel attached to its maroon leather grip. Both of them turned their heads upon hearing footsteps from behind, and saw Samus approaching them with her own gun drawn.

The woman quickly knelt down besides the rock, and looked down the sights of her gun. "Updates on the situation?"

"Not much," the Spy professionally replied.

"Deathstroke is still advancing, and Zhang is covering what little he can," Naoto continued. "Should we advance further, perhaps come to his aid."

Spy, shook his head. "Wait a moment." A moment later he stood up, and twisted something on his watch. He disappeared, cloaking away from sight. It stunned the two people remaining, but was only slightly unusual at this point.

"Commander, Spy is scouting ahead." For Naoto's own sake, it was necessary for Spy to keep the commanders best graces as well. How much of a lost cause that might be at this point should also be considered.

Apparently, the commander had been speaking to someone away from their network regarding the mission's state. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead," he replied flippantly. He'd gone silent for barely a moment when a loud 'slam' came from the other side of the intercom. At the time, they paid it no mind. As of now, it meant they'd have more freedom on this assignment.

From that point, Naoto and Samus simply waited for the Spy to return, not entire sure what exactly his motives were. While cloaked, the man actually took some care to avoid setting off another trap; especially with how isolated he was from the rest of the group. He had snuck around the side of the building, bypassing the small quarrel between Deathstroke and the two aliens. As he uncloaked behind a large tree, he glanced at the altercation to make sure he was as far away as possible.

Positive he was safe, he stepped swiftly and quietly between cover points as he danced along the forest's edge. As he snaked amongst the trees, his masked eyes shifted across the building. His eyes were peeled for anything out of the ordinary, any danger that could threaten his team, or even an unexpected operative.

Spy continued this for about a minute, making sure there'd be no harm in rushing to this bumbling brute's aid. That was when something piqued his interest. There was another figure that was position by the structure's rear. Surprised, he quickly re-engaged his cloak, and took a few steps back into the brush. Instead of a monstrous physique that intimidated the man, but rather the refined skill and sleekness that the figure looked to possess.

From afar, an unaware civilian could easily mistake this new adversary for some kind of stunt driver. The smooth, silver garb it wore couldn't look any more different than the shagged walking corpses the group was currently fighting. Plus, this new threat stood tall, and wore something slightly reminiscent of a steel helmet. Confused, Spy wondered what could this possibly be.

What was most intriguing however, was the machine that stood at its side. Completing the look, the most logical possibility is that it's some kind of vehicle, and looked most like a motorcycle. It was a metallic silver, and had stripes and accents of a midnight black. Not something he was really familiar with. Perhaps that might be more within Scout's expertise…of what little there was of it.

Spy cautiously watched the strange new enemy. It rested against the building's wall, standing motionless. At first, the assassin thought it was unconscious, or something similar. These thoughts were quickly dispelled though, as the figure jolted to life. Its limbs flared out, as if some form of energy was coursing through them. Anxious, Spy quickly grabbed the L'Etranger. "Team, a new foe might be engaging shortly," he warned though his earpiece.

The responses he earned back were mixed, and somewhat surprising. Immediately, the commander was ripped away from whatever had occupied him. "New foe?" he inquired urgently. Similar questions also arose from others in the group, especially Naoto. The boy seemed to be especially intuitive on the matter. Quite interesting for a boy to be so intellectual. Definitely something that Spy had is eyes on.

"Looks very mobile," Spy commented, not directly answering one person in particular. "Its thin frame looks built for agility, and appears to have a vehicle of sorts."

The Commander seemed quite stunned. "A vehicle?" That was certainly new. Could be used for quick, but powerful strikes. It'd make quite the potent sweeper, something that could eliminate weaker targets with relative ease…and this just happened to be a stealth mission.

Spy continued to monitor this new enigma. Now animated, it started to mount its bike. Its long legs took large strides towards the machine. As its hands gripped the front, one of the long legs swept over the side, and fir snuggly into the other. It almost looked as though device was made for the creature. Or maybe it was the other way around.

"Prepare yourselves," directed a French voice. "It looks like it's about to advance!" he stated with more vigor as the creature fully mounted its machine. As it rested atop the seat, something quit unexpected unfolded. Both the figure and the bike burst to life as bright yellow energy exploded from them. Spy was forced to child his eyes, and gasped as the light overtook his vision.

As his eyes returned to normal, he looked back with awe. What was once a plain grey suit now had streams of yellow energy flowing through it, as did the bike. The previous silver coloring was now practically invisible due to the overflow of yellow.

The alien revved the motorcycle, and another pulse of yellow shot out. "Here it comes!" Spy shouted out. He watched as it ducked its head, and slowly started accelerating from behind the building. A moment later, he watched in horror as the bike rammed into the soldier that was flung out from the corner. Deathstroke was stuck to the front of the machine as it drove, aptly followed by two rotted beasts.

The armed and ready group was met with the harrowing sight of one of their own pierced by the hood of the creature's bike.

* * *

"Well this is boring!" Deadpool dramatically yelled out as he slumped into one of the bar's sofas. "We're all stuck here while everyone else gets to go out and shoot at stuff!"

Booker rubbed his forehead as he took another drink from his coffee mug. Most of the booze was destroyed during the attack, something he wasn't sure if he was relieved or suicidal about. "Will you please just shut up already?" he grumbled out from his stool at the half destroyed bar counter. "You've been whining and complaining for the past hour now, just give it a rest."

"I'm not so sure," Bayonetta commented. "It is quite dull not doing anything to contribute, especially with the place half demolished."

Then there was that one, Bayonetta. Based on first impressions, Booker was just as happy with her as he was with Deadpool. That women's tendencies weren't exactly pleasing to him. "Please don't take his side," he deadpanned out as he slouched over the counter. Pyrrha was sitting next to him, and he wasn't totally sure what to think of her.

"Come on! They don't even have video games here!"

Obviously, something had happened to her in her previous life, and Booker was damned if he tried to ask her about it. He was concerned though. He could never blame her, but she just seems distant from everything. She barely spoke, and when she did it was only a quick answer. Even now, she simply sat next to him at the bar, not drinking anything. She just sat there. Her back was still up straight, but it was clear she was doing her best to look as small and avoidable as possible.

"Can we please just do _something_ around here? Hey, Bayonetta. You, me, bathroom, 30 minutes?"

Booker's dilemma was that he had absolutely no idea what to do. He was really the only one in this damned place that even knew what happened to her, yet he had no idea what to say. His _people_ skills as it were had always been lacking, and his parenting skills had been even worse. How they heck was he supposed to care for this girl.

"Oh please, you couldn't last a tenth of that time with me"

Booker sighed. Why should he even care anyway? It's not like he knew the girl in the first place. They hadn't even known each other for a full day yet, and Booker was trying to think of a way to solve all her problems. What made this girl so special? He put the mug down and leaned back as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Ha! In your dreams! Wanna bet?"

Booker couldn't deny it, he knew why he couldn't just abandon her. It constantly nagged at him in the back of his mind.

 _Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt!_

The man shuddered. That voice still haunted his dreams. All his choices before then haunted his dreams. Heck, most of the choices he made afterwards still haunted his dreams. He knew he couldn't do that again, especially since he was given such a strange second chance.

"You know we're all still here, right?" Booker's attention was grabbed by the new voice. Junpei if he remembered correctly, that boy that kept making strange demands when they were bringing Pyrrha up to the rest of the group. He seemed…odd if nothing else. At first glance, he seemed little more than an average kid. Although if Naoto had been anything to go by, he shouldn't pass judgment so swiftly.

He stayed lost in his thoughts for a few more minutes when he saw a small flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. It had been Pyrrha. It was slight, but the girl lit up. Her chin was up, her eyes were more alert, and she had settled for a blank stare rather than her previous frown. Booker was about to question what happened, but was surprised to be cut off by the girl in question.

"W-What if some of us have a quick spar?" she asked slowly, as if she was worried about getting shot down. "I mean…you're all bored, right? It might help us take our mind off things"

The man next to her snapped his fingers silently. He might not pride himself as being overly observant, but even he caught on to the girl's line of thinking. "Sure, sounds like a good idea," he agreed instantly. Plus, it's certainly better than tuning out those two idiots over there, "Why don't we ask if they have an open space or something we can use," he suggested, mostly to just keep the idea alive.

"In fact, I think we have just the place in mind," came a calm, elderly voice from the entrance. The group turned around, and found Dr. Shen in the doorway. Behind him was Dr. Vahlen, holding some…flat device. Heck if Booker knew what it was.

The two stepped forward into the bar area. "Before, we'd sought to do a kind interview to determine whatever unknown abilities you all may possess," Shen explained. "However, if you all think it would be more interesting to show us these abilities in action, than we'd be happy to oblige."

"Yes, quite right," Vahlen agreed. "If nothing else, it would give us a better idea of their practical applications. Maybe even allow the commander to plan accordingly," she added with a sigh.

Bayonetta cocked her head and gave a small nod. "Hmm, very well. I'd be open to the idea of getting some practice in."

The giddy Deapool started jumping around and clapping like a schoolgirl. "Yay! This will be so much fun!" After his clear approval of the plan, all eyes turned to Junpei, him being the only one left to give his opinion on the matter. He didn't realize at first, and raised his hands up when he finally saw what everyone was looking at.

"Oh! Ah, n-no not me," he pleaded with a smile. "Not much of a fighter to be perfectly honest. I don't really have any cool powers, other than being the most handsome man alive of course."

Silence filled the room.

"So yeah, I'll probably just…watch…with the doctors there…yeah…"

A moment passed before someone spoke again, but Vahlen finally spoke up again. "Very well, we'll prepare a location immediately." In the meantime I suggest you prepare yourselves for some light combat." With that announcement, the two left the room.

Various emotions were felt around the room, ranging from mild anticipation to gleeful bliss, but none was as surprising as Pyrrha. Booker glanced over, and saw something he didn't think he'd see on the girl's face for quite a while. The girl looked relived, and actually had a small smile on her face. _Well what do you know_ , he thought to himself as he leaned back and took another sip from his coffee.

* * *

 **Hello once again! Sorry for the long wait, but I've just been so busy with other things lately, ranging from personally life, to the second story I've started to write. However, I'll do my best to keep updating this story at a somewhat regular schedule…just don't hang me if I don't update for another long while.**

 **Anyway, I'd still love to hear all of your thoughts on the story so far. Anything ranging from a suggestion to critique is highly appreciated! So keep on reading, and have merry Christmas! (or happy holidays)**


	9. Spartan Combat

Pyrrha took a deep breath as she followed the others down the metal hallway. Somehow, she'd managed to rope the others into a few sparring matches, which is something the girl had really needed.

Ever since the Invincible Girl ended up in this strange new world, she felt broken. Not sad, not upset, not angry, just…broken. She wasn't even totally sure how to describe what she was feeling. She quivered slightly, slipping back into the feeling for a moment. It felt cold, like she was a sculpture of ice one touch away from shattering into a million pieces.

She felt helpless, thrust away from everything she's ever known before. Her entire career stripped away, all her friends never to be seen again, her old life, burned completely to ash. Up until this point, it took every ounce of self discipline to keep herself together. Every thought brought her down a trail that came closer and closer to a complete breakdown.

Pyrrha sulked down and folded her arms. The girl staggered, struggling to keep up with those walking in front of her. The two doctors were leading, followed by Junpei. Booker and Bayonetta stayed somewhat close while Deadpool was completely bouncing off the walls, both literally and figuratively. The sight actually warmed up her heart slightly, reminding her of old times. Aside from the extremely immature sense of humor, he almost acted kind of like No-

" _Hhp"_ Pyrrha covered her mouth to stifle the whimper she nearly escape. She but her lip as it tugged at her throat, and took a deep breath to hold it in. Although it made her a little lightheaded, she eventually calmed down. When she moved her hand away from her mouth, the girl caught a strong scent of metal. She looked down, and saw a deep stain of crimson on her hand.

"Hey, are you ok?" Booker's voice was a little startling, especially with how lost Pyrrha was in her emotions.

"O-Oh…yes, yes," she choked out. "I'm fine," she added with a dismissive, yet wavering, hand motion.

Unconvinced, Booker glanced down to Pyrrha's hand, noticing the drops of blood that fell. He eyed her face, and saw small splotches of red under her nose. "Are you sure about that?" he questioned, his voice as smooth and even as possible. "If you'd rather go back and rest, no one would fault you." The man let out an annoyed sigh. "If you ask me, having kids fight like this is messed up to begin with."

"No, truly. I'm alright." She glanced over his shoulder, noting that the others have already turned around the next corner. "Besides, I already fight for a living. It's nothing new."

Booker's face twisted into confusion, or maybe it was more concern. "Fight for a living?"

Pyrrha nodded. "Yes. I'm training to become a huntress," she responded. "My athleticism has made me somewhat of a celebrity in my world."

"Huntress?" Booker inquired, desperate to understand whatever he could about the girl.

"Yes, I train to fight against the creatures of Grimm." She saw the confusion on his face, and elaborated further. "We fight against the monsters and forces that threaten humanity."

Booker shook his head. "I still don't think that's right though, having people like you and Naoto risk your lives. If they need something done, than they should get it done themselves, not send someone with such a bright future out there."

"Well, if we can help someone, than you should do everything you can to help them right?" Pyrrha let out a small smile. "That's just being a good person. That's why I still want to help X-Com, because it's the right thing to do."

Booker frowned. "Kid, there's a difference between being a _nice_ person, and giving your life up for a pointless cause." He emphasized the word 'nice', almost as if he were disgusted by it. "You've got to learn how to live for yourself, not just for the sake of some stranger."

Pyrrha took a quivering breath, shaking. She might be on the verge of a massive breakdown, but her gaze was firm. "Well I don't have much left to live for, do I Mr. DeWitt?"

Booker gasped, surprised by the girl's sudden change in demeanor. So much so, that he merely stood dumbfounded as she walked past him. She was already a few steps passed when he tried to speak again. "Wait kid!" he pleaded with an outstretched arm. "Hold on. I-"

"W-When we spar…," she interrupted before he could finish. "When we spar, I'd like to fight you first Mr. DeWitt." She stopped, and hung her head low. Her fists were clenched, her teeth chattered, and her eyes were held on the brink of tears. "I…I want to show you that I can do this. That I'm just as capable as you," she continued without even turning around.

He looked at Pyrrha, not too sure what to say. It was obvious that he messed up, that he actually made her feel worse during this whole ordeal. Given his current situation, there weren't very many choices he could take. "…Alright, I agree." He'd never want to hurt her, but he would need to do something to show her that not everything was as clear cut. "I won't be holding anything back though, so prepare yourself."

She nodded. "O-Of course." She still seemed nervous, but confident at the same time. The girl clearly wants to prove herself, that much Booker could tell. He only hoped that he hadn't done anything to make her bitter over the whole thing. Maybe if he was lucky, fighting her in battle would bring her spirits up.

Booker started walking passed her. "We should keep going," he said solemnly. "The others will start to wonder where we've gone if we wait here too long."

"Oh, right," she replied as she lifted her head up, and jogged down the hall.

* * *

Surprisingly, it didn't seem like Booker and Pyrrha had missed much. When they walked through the metal door, they joined the others in mild shock an awe of the room they just entered. Out of all of those who entered the room, Booker seemed the most staggered by its sheer advancements.

He stared around the massive area, which was at least as big as the hanger he was in when he left the hall with the bedrooms. "Damn…" Wary of his new surroundings, he folded his arms.

Pyrrha, on the other hand, seemed quite expressive, especially for her. "This is incredible!" She bolted out towards the rest of the group as she looked around in wonder.

Shen smiled when he saw her excitement. "Well, a few traces of alien technology goes along way." He gestured towards the expansive, open room. "This, is our Guerilla Tactics School, or GTS for short." His voice echoed throughout the room.

The GTS would appear like a large warehouse were it not for the vastly futuristic walls and floors that it was made up of. They were lined with azure lights, and the dark grey spaces in between appeared to be pixilated.

Content with the startled faces of those in front of her, she donned a somewhat cocky smirk. "This room is formatted with highly a advanced, semi-holographic compound." She tapped her foot on the ground, making the others jump back as small ripples darted out of it.

"In English, please?" Bayonetta asked, stepping away from the moving floor.

Shen smiled. "These walls and floors are capable of generating numerous imitation environments. They can form things ranging from a barren desert to a dense urban jungle," he explained with a jungle. "Very handy when training solders." He glanced at Vahlen. "It's a miracle we developed these resources by studying how their doors worked."

"Oh-oh!" Deadpool squealed as he rapidly clapped his hands. "Can we see? Can we see? How about a volcano? Or how about the inside of a dragon? Oh! Or how about a stri-"

"I'm sure in due time you'll train in a variety of scenarios." Shen clapped his hands. "In the meantime, please direct your attention to Dr. Vahlen."

Vahlen finished tapping on her tablet, and stepped forward. Instead of sliding it away in her lab coat, she held it to show. "While you spar amongst yourselves, Dr. Shen and I will be recording any abilities we witness." She directed the attention to the images on the screen. Booker looked at it intently, seemingly confused by what he saw on it.

On the…flat…thing…there were images of each member of the new VIPs, 4 small images on the top, 5 small images on the bottom. Dr. Vahlen tapped on the first icon, Naoto's. Its border lit up, and the other images were replaced by several lines, presumably for writing. "This application will contain any and all information we have regarding your abilities, and any possible strategies we may use in combat."

Bayonetta leaned back towards Booker. "Feels a little unnerving to just be on display for all these guys, no?"

Frowning, he rubbed his chin. "Yeah, not exactly too happy about it." Mostly because he wasn't really sure what to do about it. Sure, the best thing to do in his situation would be to conceal some information, but he didn't really know what to do with the element of surprise. "Not great that they'll know everything about us." Really, the only one of his vigors that would be good to hide would be his Possession. This whole place will call for a lot of espionage, and very few of his other abilities stray too far from creative ways to kill someone.

"Heh, no kidding." Bayonetta tapped her fingers, almost as if she was pondering about something. She eyed Vahlen and Shen, watching them finish up their explanation. A moment later, she turned back to Booker. "You know, push is going to come to shove in this place eventually, right?" she whispered.

"What of it?" Booker shot back dubiously.

"Well, I saw you kicking some alien ass over in that meeting room." He recalled Bayonetta's fighting too. If he wasn't just seeing things, the lady was very agile, and summoned a monstrous fist that dealt one of the finishing blows against the slime monster. A 'Faceless', they were calling it. From what he's seen so far, she might have one of the most potential when it came to pure destruction. "What do you think about having each other's backs when all the problems start to come?"

Immediately, Booker shook his head. "Sorry, I work alone." Bayonetta sent back a glare. "Ask someone else, I'm only after my own skin." It wouldn't be good to just fall into debt with the first person that makes eye-contact with him.

She clicked her heel on the ground, a heel that Booker was just now noticing was outfitted with a gun. "Oh come on now, we both know that's not true, at least not now." She smirked. "If you want, that shadow of yours could tag along as well."

Booker crossed his arms and eyed her suspiciously. "Shadow?"

"Yeah of course. I'm sure that little red head could help out." Bayonetta waved a hand towards Pyrrha, who was currently listening intently to the doctors' explanation.

Would allying with her really be a good idea? In a few split seconds, Booker did his best to assess whether or not he really should. Obviously, having someone to rely on would be convenient in a bad situation, and if that someone could punch a hole through a steel wall then that's even better. It seemed good enough to _almost_ consider accepting.

Booker didn't like having to do what others say. He was a man of his principals, and those principals say that being someone's b*tch isn't very high on the 'to do' list. That's especially when that person could punch through a steel wall. He knew from experience that's its much worse to betray someone mid way through instead of giving them the deal up front.

"Sorry, not a big fan of doing what others say," he stated with as much hidden confidence as he could muster. Booker shrugged, and turned to face Vahlen and Shen. "Feel free to ask someone else though. M'sure Deadpool would love the company," he grumbled with the wave of a hand.

Bayonetta stared him down, probably trying to read him, which Booker pretended not to notice from the corner of his eye. He watched her from his peripherals for a few seconds, checking to see if she'd keep pressing on. Even if she did, shooting her down again wouldn't be any harder. Thankfully though, she turned away with a small hum.

With his attention now redirected back where it should Booker tried to figure out what exactly they'd been talking about for the past few minutes. From what he could gather, it was probably just something about battle tactics in the field. If he really needed to, he could probably just ask Junpei or Pyrrha what they said later on.

"With that being said, we were under the impression that you five would like the opportunity to test your abilities during a practice battle," Vahlen stated as she slid her tablet thing back within her lab coat.

"Again, four," Junpei stuttered out while scratching his head. "I'm not too good out on a war zone. Just a regular old guy…"

Shen looked rather concerned. "Are you sure? Would you not even want to try, see if you have any...latent potential?"

Junpei shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yep, _preeeeeetty_ sure."

Shen and Vahlen glanced at each other. For a split second it almost looked as if they were genuinely confused about something.

The female doctor did her best to hide it though, and quickly shot her head back. "Hmm, very well then You're welcome to watch with us in the observatory room in that case…"

Observatory room? Booker glanced around the room, and his eyes caught what looked like a glass square within one of the far walls. He hadn't noticed it before, probably because of how dark it was. That was probably what they were referring to. It's probably for the best that they watch from behind a wall, who knows what kind of damage could be caused in a matter of minutes with so many diverse abilities.

"Oh…uh thanks," Junpei said with a slightly forced smile. "So, I guess to get to watch all of the fireworks then?"

Shen clasped his hands together. "Yes, yes," he hastily noted with a small tap on Junpei's back. "Now, before we fall too far off topic. Which two of you would like to go first?" The man's question caused a few glances to fly amongst the group of four. However, those glances were quickly interrupted by the gleeful joy of a certain red suited mercenary.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Me and Bayonetta wanna fight together! Let us go! Let us go!" In what felt like half of a second, the guy was already on the other side of the room, clutching on to the woman's calf while resting on her boots.

Immediately, she recoiled, rapidly kicking her leg back and forth. "Hey, you'll get your time, just get off me now!" The ferocity he clung on with was quite astonishing. Deadpool was still managing to hold on to her leg when she starting kicking him with the other.

"I will not be stopped!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, interrupted every few seconds by a loud, painful thump against his rib cage. She probably wasn't even using her full strength. If she was, that perv would probably be through the next few rooms at this point.

At the embarrassing spectacle, Booker merely rubbed his forehead. He glanced at the two doctors. "This the team that the fate of your world is resting on?" That seemed to have finally gotten to someone, as Vahlen decided to intervene. She stepped forward, in between the two pairs.

She cleared her throat, trying as hard as possible to drown out the incessant chain of curses and words of other varieties that was starting to make people uncomfortable. "W-While we attempt to…" she began towards Booker and Pyrrha, but ended up looking back at the inhuman web that was Deadpool's limbs across Bayonetta's body. She then looked back, flinching as he started making even more vulgar insinuations. "…attempt to…sort this matter, I assume you two would like to begin."

Out of the corner of his eye, Booker saw Pyrrha's body tense. When he fully faced her, they locked eyes. Her stoic eye-contact bordered on a paralyzing glare. She nodded, and grabbed the hilt of the sword on her back. "Yes, I'd like to go first with Mr. DeWitt." With a quick motion, her hand flew from behind her shoulder, and a blur of orange sped out in front of her chest.

Booker nodded. "Ok," he simply replied. He'd fight the girl if that was what she truly wanted, and he wouldn't hesitate to go all out. If she needed a reality check to keep her focused on herself, then so be it. If she needed a distraction to keep her mind off of the dark side of things, then so be it. If she just wanted to prove her worth, and show that she was just as capable as she thinks, then so be it. Booker was ready to provide all three. "We'll do it. Set up the room."

Vahlen gave a small smile as she whipped out her…thing… again. "Very well. Is there a specific environment that you'd both prefer to fight within?" She tapped a few things, probably prepping the room if Booker were to guess.

"Pyrrha?" Booker gestured towards the girl, content in letting her decide. It was her idea after all, and he wouldn't want to throw her into some uncomfortable scenario. Surprisingly, the girl shook her head.

"Just the plain ground as it is would be fine." She grinned, but whether out of friendliness or pride was beyond Booker.

The doctor slid the device away before Shen spoke up. "Alright then, the GTS should be ready for use within a few moments." He donned a slightly nervous expression. "Now, if you could help us sort out this _other_ problem." He gestured towards said problem, which was Deadpool holding on for dear life as Bayonetta desperately tried to shake him from her back.

The woman's face was contorted into an angry snarl, a look that was actually quite unbefitting of someone who was acting so refined moments before. "Please get this barbarian off of me before I have to start hurting him!"

"Oh please! You needn't worry about me my dear," Deadpool masculinely swooned out from the side of Bayonetta's neck. "Besides, I think I'm fine where I am right now."

She lifted up her heel, and pinned it against his side, gun barrels jutting in just around his rib cage. "Please just remove him!"

Taking pity on no one person in particular, Junpei walked over, shaking his head with his hands on his hips. "Real heroes of the universe you bunch are, aren't ya?" His face was plastered with a cocky grin as he tried to pry Deadpool off while they walked back towards the entrance with the doctors.

The two remaining, Booker and Pyrrha, watched the mess of people barely fit through the door, followed tentatively by the doctors. Then, it all went quiet, uncannily so. Between the only souls that now occupied it, neither one could hear anything asides from the other's breath, and even those were little more than soft, barely audible sounds.

"So Pyrrha, are you ready?" Booker cracked his knuckles and did a few slight stretches as he spoke, mostly just for show. He took a deep breath, and reached into holsters on the sides of his hip. One held his golden trimmed Hand Cannon, his primary weapon of choice. A bulky, ornate, and above all, powerful firearm. Within short enough range, it could easily tear a metal automaton to pieces.

The other holster, the one on his left hip, opened to reveal his devastating melee weapon, the Skyhook. Its three magnetized spinning prongs would easily kill a man if they punctured in the right spot; of which Booker knew several.

It took a moment for him to realize that Pyrrha hadn't responded yet. Curious, he glanced over to see how she was preparing. Presumably, the doctors would be giving them the ok to fight, so it seemed like they had some time to kill. Somewhat unsurprisingly, she was killing that time by delicately surveying her weapons.

Watching her, Booker was actually quite impressed. It looked like she was analyzing every nook and cranny of that sword of hers. She stared so intently at it, rubbing every edge, curve and corner. It was staggering, seeing how serious and solemn Pyrrha was, almost like a soldier. Sure, a part of it was likely due to her situation, but the look was all too familiar. It was a face Booker saw on those he'd fought with, those that had lost something.

Whatever happened to that girl in her life before she died, she had lost something, or most likely someone. The way her hands grazed over the weapon, he saw regret. She wasn't looking over any potential flaws, she was just thinking, mindlessly. Instead of focusing on the blade or the hilt, the parts of a sword that would actually need maintenance, Pyrrha invested her time into the broad face.

She was distracted, thinking back to times before, times when she could've done something different, or maybe even _should've_ done something different in her mind. Neither of which were very beneficial for her well being.

"Excuse me," rang a booming voice from somewhere. Both Booker and Pyrrha were startled, enveloped in their own thoughts. "Are you two ready for the observation?" It took a moment to realize the voice was Vahlen's, coming from the observation room.

Then, a stuttering young voice came ricocheting through whatever speakers the voice came out of. "Uh, yeah... We're ready to go whenever you too are." Junpei. Guess he actually has a job up there. "So start when you two feel ready."

"Very well." Those were the first words Pyrrha spoke in a few minutes, and the tone of her voice was grim. "Mr. DeWitt, I'm ready to begin when you are. I wish you the best of luck." She'd only barely managed to choke out the last part.

"You too…" They both stood up, and jogged over to opposite sides of the room. Once they settled into ready stances, the lights from above them dimmed.

Pyrrha drew a deep breath from within her while she brought her out her sword. Her other hand was guarding her side, covered by her shield.

A moment later, as if possessed by some ulterior force, she shot forward. The girl was an orange bullet, dashing right towards Booker. By the time she closed the gap, there was barely enough time to raise the Skyhook to block the incoming downward slash. He knocked it aside, only giving him just enough time to turn away from the thrust to his head.

The blade of the strangely designed weapon passed within a hair of his head. It reached so close, Booker could feel the resonance from the magnetic shield that coated his body. A well placed stab from that thing would easily shatter it in an instant; probably good to keep away from it.

She jumped back before leaping forward with her shield outstretched. The impact against his chest pushed him back, and he staggered off balance. Already, she was in pursuit, jumping up and rearing her hand back for another attack. It was in a reverse grip, preparing for another stab. What was really surprising though, was the gunshot that rang through Booker's ears.

He couldn't quite tell where it came from, but that wasn't really an issue when a sword was now launched at your face like some sort of spear. The lethal attack connected, dealing incredible damage to his shield. He could see it straining to hold itself together against his eyes. He didn't have a lot left, but it was something. Repelled by the magnetic force, the spear bounced back, almost as if it tried to pierce through a blunt object. Amazingly, Pyrrha caught it before she even landed from her jump, and proceeded unleash a flurry of quick strikes and slashes.

By the time he was able to jump away, his shield was almost certainly shattered. It'd need some time to recharge, which meant keeping the girl at a distance. Not like that would be a problem though, she was damn ruthless up close. She didn't even miss a beat in between strikes, like it was some choreographed routine.

Grimacing, Booker did his best to pull away. Running, he fired a few shots from his gun, hoping to at cause a distraction. Accuracy would be a small problem, but it wouldn't really matter with the large spray of bullets that were fired. However, Pyrrha merely charged again, using her shield to block the brunt of the force. She did stagger slightly with each spray, so she did feel it at the very least.

Realizing the futility of wasting bullets, Booker holstered his skyhook. He'd need to be careful with what he does next, he wasn't totally sure how much damage the girl could take, so using abilities too offensively would get her hurt. He wanted to win, but not in a way that could hurt, or even kill the girl he was fighting.

With this in mind, Booker flicked his hand out. He flexed it, and felt his very skin ripping away from muscle and bone. The sheer amount of energy that he was bottling up did tend to do that, and as one could imagine, it hurt like hell.

He waved the hand out, sending some king of shockwave to intercept his attacker. Gasping briefly in surprise Pyrrha lowered her shield to try and block it. Unfortunately, it did little to stop her from getting flung into the air by Bucking Bronco. She and her weapons were suspended in thin air, completely vulnerable and off balance. Confused and startled, Pyrrha let out a small yelp as she tried to orient herself. Her hands and legs kicked out wildly until she found a grip on her sword. Luckily enough for Booker, it was all the time he needed.

Running up, he felt a small gale of winds surging from behind him. His free hand was enveloped in a small whirlwind, a whirlwind he punched forward with when he jumped into the air. With the force of a hurricane behind him, the force of the Charge sent the girl soaring across the room.

She was dazed, but still kept her bearings. Right before she made contact with the wall, she planted her foot on it, and flipped off it. She gracefully dived back, and landed with one knee on the ground. Her sword was raised with the hilt facing towards him, almost as if it was a-

Booker barely rolled out of the way of the small hail of bullets Pyrrha was sending. Confident that he'd never be able to dodge them all, he felt his hand become a fair bit heavier. The metallic coating that now covered them greatly boosted the magnetic shield, and allowed him to catch several of the bullets before they hit him. In his palm now rested a molten ball of crumpled steel, a very powerful projectile. With a strong peg, Booker's Return to Sender powered bullet exploded right next to the sharpshooter.

She went flying, and rolled a fair distance before finally stopping on her side. The attack hit her hard, but Booker wasn't about to let up. She wasn't, and there was no way he would fight unfairly. She wanted a fight, and she deserved it after that display of skill.

Suddenly, talons grew out of his fingertips, soon accompanied by thick, black feathers. He threw his hands forward, and the chilling caws of crows filled the room. The murder flew like a swarm, erratically flying in a general path. One of Booker's favorite vigors actually. The daunting cries and maligned appearance of a crow was enough to scare a few who were too superstitious. An entire murder of crows, that was something special. A horrifying force that no one would expect to see on a battle field, and a force that was almost always underestimated.

The black mass soon engulfed Pyrrha, who was only now just recovering from her fall. At worst, the pecks and scratches from one of the crows would serve as a minor distraction, but a full murder could be devastating if their target was unprepared. Hopefully a happy medium could be struck.

After a few moments of nothingness within the dark storm, Booker started to worry. What if she was overwhelmed, and couldn't manage to defend herself. He frowned and clenched his teeth, hoping he hadn't taken it too far. Just as he was about to charge right through the swarm though, small blurs of orange started cutting their way through. Within moments, the dozens of crows were soon cut down to twenty…then ten…until eventually, the few that remained went flying off elsewhere. All that remained was the stalwart gaze of Pyrrha Nikos. A gaze, which surprisingly, was accompanied by a satisfied smirk.

She started walking towards Booker, ever so slowly at first. As she continued, her pace quickened. The further and further she went, the closer and closer she came to bolting at a full sprint. Booker did the same, revving up his skyhook. The machine's engine sparked, and soon the entire weapon was coated in a whipping shroud of flames.

With a guttural cry, Booker charged. Pyrrha did the same, holding her sword high. They both leapt in the air, ready for metal to clash against metal. Just as the flaming wheel surged forward though, Pyrrha ducked back down to the ground. She rolled under, letting her attacker sail over her. With a quick twist, she threw her shield, aiming squarely for its target's back. She dashed after it, firing an onslaught of several bullets.

When Booker finally landed on the ground, he quickly turned around to face his combatant, a poor move. A flying disk was slammed into his face, his chest and torso were pummeled with steel, and his feet were swept out from under him by the flat of the sword. His back slammed against the floor, sending a wave of particles from where he landed.

As soon as he regained his senses, and went to stand, his throat was blocked by something cold and hard. He didn't dare continue, and merely stared at the blade that was pressed against his neck. He then looked up, and was met with two bright green eyes and a confident smile.

Pyrrha chuckled, and pulled her blade back. "Well, I suppose that's the match." She offered out her hand, which was instantly accepted by Booker. Gripping it, he pulled himself on to his own feet and dusted himself off.

"Guess so." He didn't smile, but anyone could tell there was something different about his face. His eyes were warmer, less callous and serious than they were before. "Suppose you were right, looks like you can handle yourself after all…"

She chuckled again. "Same to you Mr. DeWitt. That was quite a fight." Spinning her weapon on to her back, she tucked away her sword and shield.

* * *

 **Alright, hello again! Sorry for the long wait, but I've been really busy lately. At least it's better than last time though, so that's a plus!**

 **I guess by the end of this chapter, you'd be able to see who some of the main characters are. Don't worry though, there are still several opportunities for character growth that I hope to explore before the story's conclusion. Based on the way time's progressing in it, that won't be for a** _ **long**_ **time, so strap in for a ride!**

 **That being said, a fair bit of the plot is somewhat planned out already. I have a few general ideas about when and how it will all play out.**

 **Finally, I wanted to announce that from here on out, I'm going to respond to every review I get, to the few of you that read, feel free to post something. Any comments, suggestions, or criticism are highly appreciated, and would really inspire me to keep on writing.**

 **With all that out of the way, I hope you all have a great day!**


	10. Future Prospects

Valhen smiled, content with how smoothly this is going.

"…Remarkable," Vahlen muttered as she watched the two fight from the observation room.

The prowess of Pyrrha's close ranged combat ability was incredible, leagues beyond what any normal human would consider possible. She jumped far higher, ran far faster, and struck with the precision and speed that would be hard to replicate with a computer, let alone a teenage girl.

Then there was her weapon. A sword, a xiphos if Vahlen recognized her ancient Greek weaponry correctly, and shield. Simple at first glance, maybe tad ornate with regards to design, but nothing notable. That is, until it revealed that it was capable of firing rounds with relative accuracy against what was around 25 meters of distance. When combined with its versatile applications, it could dominate within close quarters.

Pyrrha Nikos's combat was certainly impressive, but her feats were child's play when compared to what Mr. DeWitt brought to the table. His seemingly supernatural abilities were leagues beyond what she had first surmised after the brief confrontation with the Faceless prior. During their battle, Vahlen merely sat back in awe, speechless at each new power that the enigmatic man wrought forth. The inexplicable shock wave, the ability to intercept bullets, the tornado that surged him forward, but most menacingly of all, the monstrous murder of crows that he daunted the fight with.

Each cry of the avian menaces was chilling, and Vahlen's few companions shuddered when the midnight mass engulfed the poor girl. Energy blasts and fire balls weren't too special, but this…this was on an entirely different level. This man had created dozens upon dozens of ruthless, feathered crows to stun his opponent.

Vahlen was practically drooling with excitement.

Her mind simply couldn't handle the immense amount of creative thinking and research that could be developed from such an inconceivable topic. Not only would Bradford and the Commander be filled with possible combative implications of such an unorthodox ability, but dissecting and fully analyzing its origin would provide even further scientific advancements. The possibilities were endless…the rapid construction of cells needed to produce such an attack, the hive mind that must surely control a normally placid group, its activation stemming from a man's arm of all things…the list went on and on.

The doctor was so enamored with ideas that she hadn't even thought to conclude the proceedings. Her thoughts clicked back to reality upon noticing the questioning cough that Junpei, who was gesturing to the completed spar through the window. Shen was off monitoring any readings they'd just gotten from the battle, so she was the only authoritarian figure the man could turn to, understandably.

"Ah, yes. Sorry about that Junpei," she quickly stuttered out, hoping that her startledness would not be visible to the others. "Assuming they're both alright, have them return up here. I believe it would be acceptable for them to view Deadpool and Bayonetta's fight."

He turned to the mic with an affirmative nod. "Alright then guys, come on up here. These two up here will go to meet you on the way." After glancing around for a moment, Pyrrha waved to the glass enclosure. She turned to Booker, who was currently nursing a few blows he received, and the two trotted off to the exit.

"You two." Vahlen's eyes sharpened on to the other two who rested against the far wall. Both had watched the spectacle before them, but neither looked too impressed,at least not nearly as impressed as Vahlen herself was. Perhaps this wasn't as impressive on their respective world's. "I will escort you down to the GTS. Please follow me."

Bayonetta chuckled. "Ahh, it's about time. I've been getting sore just waiting around the whole time. She stretched her arms above her head, making a sharp crack sound throughout the room. "It'll be nice to have some fun for a change."

Deadpool, as usual, was his ecstatic self. With an inhuman speed, his arms were a whirlwind around his body, checking and triple checking every gun, sword, and grenade tattered across his body. "SMGs...katanas...pistols...knives...rocket launchers...hammers...chimichangas...Yep! All set!" He daintily slid behind Bayonetta. "So...you ready babe?" It would've been a pretty creepy move, but the fact that he was dwarfed by the woman who stood a fair bit above him made it almost comical.

Surprisingly, the woman barely even flinched at the sudden advance. It was probably a bad sign that she was already getting used to such abhorrent behavior, especially after knowing such a vulgar man for barely a few days. Valhen arched her brow at the scene as she opened the door. Her key card slid through its slot next to the portal, and it slid up into the all.

Her shoes clicked against the metal floor as she walked into the hallway, threatening to leave Bayonetta and Deadpool behind. With a satellite of red and black orbiting her at a surprising pace, the tall woman followed after Vahlen, leaving Junpei alone with an occupied Dr. Shen. The elderly man was pressing away at a computer module, analyzing the footage of Booker and Pyrrha's fight.

Curious, Junpei took a cautious peer over the sweatered shoulder. The young man stared at the monitor, eyeing the footage that was being replayed countless times. There were several dynamic charts and graphs, all fluctuating violently with every strange power Booker used. Next to Pyrrha, there were a few other ones as well. They weren't nearly as sporadic, and appeared to be much more regular.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

Junpei flinched. "Oh?" He hadn't noticed that Shen noticed his snooping.

Shen massaged his chin, captivated by the footage. "I've seen many people with many different talents and abilities in my line of work. Soldiers capable of feats that seem unfathomable." He chuckled, admiring the screen before him. "But this, this is unlike anything I've ever seen."

"O-Oh, yeah. Pretty cool," Junpei commented with his hands in his pockets. In all honesty, he was initially taken aback by what he had witnessed. The amazing abilities that Shen was discussing were certainly amazing in their own right, but Junpei's thoughts were occupied elsewhere.

"To be blessed with such immense power..." Shen slowly started drifting closer toward the computer, captivated by the display. That is he was, until an alarm started blaring beside him.

The bright red bulb flared to life, and a siren's wail echoed throughout the room. It's sudden activation caused Shen to flinch wildly, jumping back out of his char and back into Junpei, who caught the man without missing a beat.

As the engineer darted across the other side of the room, Junpei stood back with a questioning and slightly anxious gaze. "Woah, hey! What's going on here?" He watched as skilled fingers flew across another keyboard. Shen's brow was furrowed into a nervousness, and only deepened when he caught wind of the upcoming announcement.

"CODE YELLOW, ALL PERSONNEL LEVEL 2 AND ABOVE REPORT TO MISSION CONTROL." Speakers from all around the room voiced the instruction, and only promoted Shen to quicken his pace.

Ignored, Junpei voiced his concern again. "Hey Dr. Shen, what the heck does 'code yellow' mean?" She gently shook the man's shoulder, hoping that would get a proper response out.

Just then Booker, Vahlen and Pyrrha came rushing in to the observation room. Booker's stentorian voice was the first one to boom as he entered the room. "What the Hell is going on here? What's that alarm about?" His shout was accompanied by a pound against the wall.

Shen pulled a flash drive from the computer he was working on. "The mission went south, me and Dr. Vahlen need to get to the Commander's aid as readily as possible." He shuffled up, sliding the flash drive into his pocket. In his hasty exit, the chair he sat in was thrown against the floor. "The two of us must leave immediately!"

Valhen nodded. "Quite right." As Shen bolted passed her, she stepped to the side.

Booker's face flared into anger. "Went south? What do you mean went south?" His furiousness was dulled, but still radiated with the group.

"It is merely a matter that requires our attention, so please remain calm Mr. DeWitt." Just as Vahlen was about to leave as well, she caught the arm of a passing soldier, who was running down the hall as well. Looking the confused man in the eye, she pulled him into the observation room. "Watch them, don't let them touch anything they shouldn't."

With a salute, the solder replied with a curt "Yes ma'am!" She then left the room, lab coat swaying with each stepped she jogged.

Booker sighed and muttered to himself before storming after her, leaving a very confused and anxious girl behind. Dazed, she turned to Junpei, who stood with a serious expression. "You should go with him." He responded to her pleading gaze. Pyrrha flashed a small smile before following Booker, hoping that she'd be able to catch up with the rest of them.

That left Junpei alone with the guarding soldier, who stood tall with his rifle across his chest. He wore a heavily plated helmet, but it was obvious who's attention his eyes rested on.

"Hey, heads up." Junpei cockily smirked as his hand shot out of his pocket. When he flicked his wrist, a small coin he'd been holding was flung straight at the guard's face.

"Gah!" Startled, the man's flinch caused his gun to fly up into the air. As the penny bounced and clicked on the ground, Junpei charged. With a quick motion, he threw the guard onto the ground and snatched the rifle from the air. Before the solder could even react, his face was met with the butt of the weapon he just held. He was knocked unconscious immediately.

Throwing the gun to the side, Junpei practically threw himself into Shen's computer- the computer that had been left on on the hurried exit. It's metal frame bounded across the ground, landing next to the coin that now lay on the floor. It slid to a halt, its barrel just barely covering the face of Abraham Lincoln.

"Haha, alright. Let's see what we can find here..." He cracked his knuckles and went to work on the system. His eyes surveyed every folder he came across, yet it only took him a few minutes to find what he was looking for.

I.T.A. DATABASE

Upon noticing the icon, Junpei clicked it immediately. The folder expanded across the screen, but became blocked another. Before he could do anything else, the screen darkened. The only thing illuminating the otherwise black screen was a small box which read 'password', and a blinking bar, evidencing the need to type. He smiled, and never once ceased to progress.

8112125258

Jumped finished typing, and the password box that halted his entry vanished. The background loaded, and Junpei had free access to any information, passwords, and warnings he needed about X-Com's ability to travel dimensions.

"Perfect."

He smiled contented as he viewed the files, confident that he had at least another six minutes and twenty seven seconds before anyone even noticed that something was wrong. An ample supply of time for everything Junpei needed look up. The mouse scrolled up and down the screen, gliding passed any information that could be seen as useful.

Before he knew it, he heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. "Hmm...Deadpool and Bayonetta." Junpei frowned, acknowledging that his time was just about up. He glanced at the monitor. "Well, I think I've gotten just about everything I need." Satisfied with his work he bent down to grab the gun. He gripped it tightly in his hands, and awkwardly maneuvered it so the barrel was pointed directly into his mouth.

* * *

"We should go with him." He responded to her pleading gaze. Pyrrha flashed a small smile before following Booker, hoping that she'd be able to catch up with the rest of them. Junpei followed closely behind her.

He figured it would've been easy to catch up with the girl, he was a tall young man after all, and should have no problem catching up with a girl who was clearly a few years his junior. "Geez, this woman is like an Amazon..." His breath heaved in an out, and his lungs screamed with effort. He had been behind her by only a few seconds, but now he could barely follow her before she turned the next corner.

After a few minutes of ceaseless running, the industrial metal floors and ceilings eventually turned to carpet and wood. Junpei wasn't sure when though, he was too busy trying to keep his lungs down his throat. He was about to look up when-

"Ough!" He collided with a stopped Pyrrha...it was like running into a brick wall. "Geez," he huffed. "You run like a-"

Junpei was interrupted by a guttural growl from Booker. "Isn't there anything to can do about this?" His face flared out at the Commander, who sat helplessly in his chair. The spectacled man was leaning over his desk, longingly glancing at the screen.

His chin rested on his folded hands, and his elbows held his face up. "I'm looking Mr. DeWitt, I'm just trying to think..." He looked at the screen in front of him, and the newcomers followed suit. In short, it was looking to be a complete disaster.

"Are you even seeing this?" Booker asked incredulously. "People are going to die out there." Junpei could see why he was so enraged. If the scene on the monitor continued to play out, many people would certainly die.

The first thing he saw was the bloody and broken body of Deathstroke. The red, grey, and orange mass was sprawled across the grass. There were several open gashed which slashed his chest open, and many of his limbs were bent into abnormal positions.

The next thing he noticed was Naoto, who was very clearly injured. The capped boy clutched a messy wound on his arm, and was being held by Samus behind a rock. The blonde woman was doing her best to nurse it, but it was obvious it was to no avail. Their cursory first aid kit was doing little to fix the severe burn marks that peppered the dark blue jacket.

Then there was Zhang and Spy, who were mostly barely scraping a defense against their attackers. The former was almost stationary, a sentinel that was doing his best to keep the two corpse like monsters and the motorcycle riding one at bay. He twisted and flung his LMG in several directions, trying to cover as much ground as possible. Somewhere in the mix was what looked like a pale white pistol which rested in the grass.

Spy, on the other hand, was darting in and out of sight with his strange cloaking device of his. Using his knife and pistol, he dealt in small pecks of damage wherever he could. Mostly though, his futile attacks only served to anger the two monsters, and he couldn't even hit the sleek silver and yellow one.

All in all, it looked pretty bad.

"Well think faster." Booker's harsh toned almost sounded threatening. "It's your fault they're all out there, now do something before they get killed!"

The commander turned to the side, snapping his fingers in a desperate attempt to fit all of these intricate puzzle pieces together. He wracked his brain teeth clenched form the sheer effort of trying to come up with something, anything!

All of a sudden, the constant snapping stopped. The Commander bolted upright, and started shouting orders into his microphone. "Zhang, activate Telekinetic Field! Spy, pull back and provide covering fire!" The message sent though, and the effects were seen immediately.

Zhang was the first to respond, used to obeying the Commander's instructions as soon as possible. "Affirmative Commander." Much to the dismay of Spy, his only buffer between him and the encroaching aliens vanished in an instant. Zhang had reattached his gun to its position behind his back, and started concentrating a large amount of psionic energy within his palms. With a flash of purple light, his outstretched hands irradiated a large blast of energy onto the field.

Startled, the Frenchman shielded his eyes form the unknown force. As the wave passed over him, his shock at its effects on the surroundings was evident, even from the relatively poor transmission. Within the large bubble of energy, everything seemed to slow down. Dirt and dust floated in the air, grass started to be pulled upright, and Spy's own tie hovered up to his face.

He started at his hands, confused by the sudden lack of gravity around him. That would be a mistake he wouldn't soon repeat, especially with how he barely dodge the incoming attack of the Corpse. Thanks to its lessened in the bubble, it soared over the man's ducked head. Eager to avoid further peril, Spy promptly rolled into some shrubbery, and opened fire on the enemies.

The commander continued yelling orders, but his newest set were directed at those within the confines of his own room. "Vahlen, get the approximate speed of that butterfly Naoto summoned. Shen, calculate the path of the mounted alien, I want to know where it will be and when.

"Of course," the two replied in unison. They broke away from the small crowd to separate computers, and vigorously started analyzing a combination of written data and video evidence.

"Samus," the Commander yelled. "Run out there and grab Naoto's gun! Get it back to him as fast as you can!"

The woman leapt out from her cover, and bolted down the open grass. Her already superhuman speed nearly doubled as she entered Zhang's purple bubble, each stride propelling her even further with the assistance of lessened gravity.

Shen was the first of the doctors to complete his task. Despite his age, the time it took to get from his chair to the Commander's was impressive. Once he got their, he thrust a tablet in onto the desk, highlighting the expected path of the silver alien based on its previous rides.

Taking occasional glances at the tablet, the Commander did his best to find a common point of interest. "Naoto, see the small, pointed rock?" He waited a moment before Naoto eventually nodded. "On my single, send your- ah...summon to strike at that exact location."

"Yes, I understand."

Then, Vahlen started shouted from her little corner of the room. "Naoto' summon's sped is approximately .6 meters per second based on previous records," she loudly proclaimed. "Making its travel time to your specified location be 3.3 seconds."

The crowd watched as Samus darted in between the two Corpses' attacks, sliding through the grass to pick up Naoto's lost summoning pistol. With a single hand, she threw the device back to Naoto, who was limping out from behind her rock. The gun flew through the air, a small whistle accompanying its toss.

Jumping to the side, Naoto barely caught it before it spun into the woods. He landed harshly on the ground, grunting in pain as his injured arm slammed into the dirt.

The Commander's eyes narrowed. "Now!" He shot up from his seat, frantically waving his hands as he shouted. Similarly, Naoto screamed, and he pulled the trigger of the gun up against his head. Accompanied by the sound of shattering glass, the blue being materialized above the ground. Within a second, is white wings carried it towards the alien, sword outstretched towards the target.

All eyes were on the teal glow of the blade as pierced through the motorcycle, tossing its rider from its mount. The metal crumpled and tore into a mess of sparks and metal, carving wide marks into the dirt. It bounced with startling squeals, and simply broke into an assortment of broken parts and machinery. The bike's rider fared little better, flipping through the grass until it hit a nearby tree. The battered body struggled to right itself with its one good arm, the other being scratched and disfigured by the nearly fatal crash. Then, it simply dropped to the floor. A small cloud of dust puffed out from where its lifeless head landed.

Back at the headquarters, Booker exhaled a long held breath. Calmed by the unknown threat's defeat, he leant over the Commander's desk. He tensed slightly when he felt someone touch his shoulder, and turned around to find Pyrrha subtly rubbing it. Her warm smile compounded the relief of the room. "Well, it looks like they're going to be alright."

The two looked back up to the screen. It looked like the combined firepower of Zhang, Spy, and Samus were enough to finally take care of those abominations. The corpses of the hideous things laid sprawled out, still smoking from whatever weaponry they used to get the job done. Even Naoto, who was clutching her left arm, was leaning against the rock with a small smile. His breath was jagged, but she would live at the very least.

The only issue was Deathstroke, who's figure still sat motionless in the middle of the field. Junpei frowned at the sudden realization. "W-What about him? Deathstroke I mean, is he gonna be ok?"

The Commander took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, having his silence speak louder than any words could. Thankfully, Vahlen chose to resist the muteness. She gulped briefly before answering. "It's obviously unclear at the moment whether he'll be able to recover." Her words sounded empty, almost like they were being recited from a random piece of paper. To anyone who was still listening, the only thing that was obvious was that no normal person could withstand those kinds of injuries. "However, you can be sure that we'll do everything in our power to help."

Her words left their little group a little bit less than reassured. Booker's mouth returned back to its seemingly neutral position of a grim line, and Pyrrha's once bright eyes darkened with grief once she noticed her relief was for naught. Junpei merely stood there with his hands in his pockets, confusion and nervousness robbing him of the chance to say something productive. The Commander was still downtrodden at his seat, mumbling to himself about how that could've gone better. Even Shen was still silent, hands folded in front of him with a mix of smothering etiquette and anxiousness.

"Well whatever," Booker deadpanned before pushing away from the desk. "I'll be headed back to the lounge if anyone needs me." His voice sounded dejected, almost filled with bitterness. Pyrrha staggered out to follow, taking awkward and hesitant steps from behind.

Junpei clapped his hands together and forced a very sad smile. He only nodded before following suit, jogging slightly to catch up with the other two.

"What are we doing..."

The two doctors turned back to the slouched Commander, who was practically hiding his face within his hands. He voiced what all three were thinking at the moment. What were they doing exactly? Throwing a bunch of misfits at a war zone and hoping they magically fix all of their problems? Perhaps they had yet to admit it, but the three had met an unspoken agreement about the predicament they found themselves in. In short, they were doing a terrible job at properly rallying in this group. If they wanted to save their planet, they'd have to either overhaul this whole operation, or scrap it entirely.

After a moment of silent pondering, the Commander slowly stood up. "I'll be in my quarters, managing the construction..." He slouched off, sliding his glasses back onto his face. "Maybe I'll have them build another bar to destroy..."


End file.
